


The Judgment of Persephone

by Artemysia93



Series: The Judgment of Persephone [1]
Category: Ancient Egyptian Religion, Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Ancient Roman Religion & Lore, Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, All Pantheons Coexisting, Anubis is the best bro, Brotherly Affection, Cerberus is a good boi, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Dialogue Heavy, Discovering the Underworld, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Hades is a gentleman, Healthy Relationships, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Law School, Modern Retelling, Pagan Gods, Persephone Goes Willingly With Hades (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Romance, Trials, long chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:14:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 176,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22023145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemysia93/pseuds/Artemysia93
Summary: Born in the 90s, university student, short and with lots of human friends: Persephone really has a terrible divine curriculum. Mortals don't worship her, Gods don't invite her to their mundane events, and all in all it would be fine for her. Or at least this is what she thinks.Everything changes when at a conference she meets Hades, God of the dead. His too is a heavy baggage: three hundred thousand years of age, seven feet tall, at least twenty titles on his name. But he's also the only one understaning Persephone's passion for law subjects, as well as the only one who seems uncomfortable among the other deities as much as her. How couldn't they get along?They find themselves intertwining their destinies and working together to issue a controversial judgement, collaborating in a trial of souls in the court of the Underworld. And so, halfway between irony and seriousness, fairness and rigor, life and death, this is the (semi) modern reinterpretation of a myth that has never stopped being told.
Relationships: Anubis/Original Charachter, Hades & Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Hades/Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Series: The Judgment of Persephone [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797703
Comments: 672
Kudos: 493





	1. The Epicurean Paradox

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [El Juicio de Perséfone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26652856) by [SlyPrincess98](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlyPrincess98/pseuds/SlyPrincess98)



> Hi folks!  
> This is Giulia here to make her usual, little preface.  
> First thing first, thank you to be here! This is a modern retelling of the myth of Persephone. An old-fashioned love story, largely based on the original, more ancient version of the myth (with Persephone willingly going to the Underworld, for exemple, but you'll see how I reworked some details in a modern way!). In this novel, all the gods of all religions exists, and humans know it, treating them as superstars. Also, there will be a controversial trial for a group of souls, and a lot of discussions about life, death, justice and guilt. Don't worry: you don't have to be "passionate" nor about mythology, nor about law: this story is a structured as a book. Everything will be explained, and one of my goal is in fact to interest you in something new!
> 
> No particular warnings apply to this story, just some technical notes:  
> \- I'm not an english native speaker. I'm a writer in Italy and this is a book I'm going to publish, which I'm trying to translate in order to reach a wider audience. If you incurr in any mistake, feel totally free to correct me! And if you want to read the italian version, it's on Wattpad: [Il Giudizio di Persefone](https://www.wattpad.com/story/192612905-il-giudizio-di-persefone).  
> \- Don't worry if you incurr in some strange units of measure or some words in greek alphabet, I'll convert and translate everything in the end notes!  
> \- I'll try to update once or twice a week.  
> \- Of course, be prapered for some poetic licenses.  
> \- This is registered copyright material, don't even think of stealing, claiming as your own, and so on, if you don't want Cerberus' fangs around your tiny body. Thanks!  
> \- And, last but not least, remember: I do live for comments, feel free to let me know what you think! *.*
> 
> Bye bye, enjoy the reading!

_God either wishes to take away evils, and is unable; or He is able, and is unwilling; or He is neither willing nor able, or He is both willing and able. If He is willing and is unable, He is feeble, which is not in accordance with the character of God; if He is able and unwilling, He is envious, which is equally at variance with God; if He is neither willing nor able, He is both envious and feeble, and therefore not God; if He is both willing and able, which alone is suitable to God, from what source then are evils? Or why does He not remove them?_

_\- The Epicurean Paradox -_

_Why don't you do it, Persephone? Why don't you take away all the evils?_

_You who are divine; you who are the most merciful and earthly in all your kind; you who wish to and maybe are able: why don't you make all mortals happy?_

Chuckling bitterly, it was a question that the Goddess of flowering often asked herself. Because she really wanted to: she wanted to make the whole world blossom instantly and dispel the drought; she wanted so much to clean the rivers and oceans with a snap of her fingers; she wanted to save all the animals and all the dying children, but... there was always a _but_ , from whatever perspective she looked.

 _But_ if you deprive the Egyptian Gods of the desert, they will be furious with you.

 _But_ if you clean the waters for them, mortals will never learn not to pollute them.

 _But_ if you steal souls from the Underworld to which they are destined, you will have to come to terms with the Inexorable.

Ever since Persephone was just a leaping child, jumping in the meadows, everyone kept telling her those warnings, implying that yes, she was indeed almighty, but almost nothing depended on her decisions. In a universe so crowded with deities, there were ancient and more powerful Gods to whom to submit, there were treatises of non-interference between the various Pantheons, and then there was the so-called _greater good_ in which her mother Demeter believed, always very careful to teach lessons to humanity with the help of both the stick and the carrot.

So no, Persephone could do almost nothing. Her place in the world, both earthly and divine, had been cut too late, in the late ‘90s of the 20th century. A twenty-three-years-old Goddess, in the eyes of the oldest ones, was barely an embryo. She was an _idea_ , and not in the positive way Plato meant: Persephone was a rarefied concept, barely tangible, who wasn’t allowed to Symposia, who hadn’t the slightest right to discuss about hers or others’ Mysteries: all in all, it was better for her to just keep jumping around in the fields, thank you very much.

Was Persephone suffering from all this?

Yes. No. Maybe a little.

She tried not to take it too personally, actually. She had to give herself time, she kept repeating herself. She had to be patient, just grow a couple of thousand years, then maybe they would start taking her into consideration.

Meanwhile, Persephone was fulfilled with the small satisfactions of a small life, more like that of a mortal than a Goddess. She liked sunbathing in the sun on the terrace of her house, in the countryside around Rome; she liked to postpone the alarm clock on her cell phone ten times, only to get up late and quickly; she liked to dress ethnic and eat vegetarian tortillas; she liked folk music, she liked to read, she liked swimming in public pools; but above all, she liked to study in mortal universities, ask herself metaphysical mortal questions and, ultimately, behave like a mortal. And, thus, all the omnipotence she had and which Epicurus praised was limited to some potted plants in her room, and to a garden particularly envied by neighbors during the summer.

Persephone. The Goddess of Green Thumb.

Only sometimes she allowed herself to bask in the thought of her own uselessness, like that morning in late September, lying on the bed with her eyes wide open to the monotonous ceiling, counting the cracks.

She sighed disconsolately. She thought she should get up, put on something, but then she glanced at the pile of messy clothes on the desk chair, and could only sigh again. Se would’ve bet her head with all the laurel wreath that if Hera, Goddess of the Goddesses of their Pantheon, had seen that mess, would’ve even dispossessed Persephone of her immortality.

At that very moment, Persephone's mother passed through the corridor, out of the room. She was looking for something, because she stuttered an indistinct question about a pair of shoes. Then she came back, passed in front of the open door and stuck her head in, lowering herself to go under the lintel.

"Kore! Did you see my yellow heels? Those with the spikes of wheat!"

Persephone shrugged, smiling.

"Certainly I didn't take them, since your foot size is forty-seven."

Demeter, the tall and gigantic harvest Goddess, rolled her eyes and shook her head. She had never approved that sarcasm. It didn’t suit a fertility Goddess, according to her.

"Kore, I don't feel like playing, come on."

"Get help from Hermes. He’s also the God of those who seek lost things, isn’t he?"

"Or _stolen_ things." Demeter insinuated, narrowing her golden eyes in the direction of her daughter.

Persephone finally got up from the bed, laughing cheerfully. She bent down and pulled her mother's yellow heels from under the desk. Demeter, with an exaggerated sigh of relief, rushed into the room to get them to her feet. She kept shaking her head and her wheat-grain gold earrings slammed from side to side, amplifying her disapproval.

"You really don’t care about your mother's lecture, huh?" Demeter complained after fastening the straps, now checking her blonde hairstyle and making sure that her suit was well-pressed.

"Of course I care! But you have to relax, you’re always so apprehensive!"

"I’m not apprehensive, I’m just prudent."

After that, Demeter pulled a series of cards out of her pocket. She had prepared a good speech, she had done things seriously because she was taking her role just as seriously as all the major Gods.

Demeter checked that she had all the cards and they were in the right order. When she was assured of their condition, she returned them to her pocket and sighed with satisfaction. With a wave of her hands she pointed to herself, raising his slender chin.

"So? How do I look? "

"Well... you're..."

"Gorgeous? Better than Aphrodite?"

"You’re _tall_."

Demeter smiled and patted her shoulder, amused by that teasing, after all.

"Maybe it's you being short, darling."

"It should be illegal for you to put those heels on" said Persephone, playing with her, "how tall are you? One-ninety? Two meters?"

"Two and five centimeters, with these jewels on my feet."

She boasted about it, because she was still a Goddess, and the pride of the Gods is boundless, however humble their functions may be.

Demeter stopped playing and sighed again, restoring seriousness to the whole environment. She tightened her full lips a little and tried to reopen a speech that Persephone would rather leave in oblivion.

"So, are you sure you don't want to come with me? I could make you talk a little. At the Agricultural University surely they would find interesting what you have to say."

"Mom, we've already talked about it. I don't want to go on stage because you are the one giving me the opportunity to. It will be for the next decade, if they put me in the lineup of divine speakers."

"At least come to the audience, I..."

But Persephone shook her head with a sympathetic smile. She came a little closer and had to look up to see her mother's face.

"You’ll be perfect. You’re very good and you have prepared a surprising speech, but you know that the _ecology in fertilizing vineyards_ isn’t... my cup of tea."

This time, a severe expression appeared on Demeter's young and at the same time ancient face. She pulled the corners of her mouth a little as she looked down at her daughter.

"It should be. That's what you're destined for."

"What? I’m destined for crops and farms? There’s already you for this. And you’ll never die, so what’s my purpose?"

"This is what you are destined for" reiterated Demeter, as if it were the answer to any universal question, "not even the Gods choose their role, so all you have to do is accept it. And don't wish me death, thank you."

That final was a joke, because Gods were like this: they took mortality very lightly. They joked about it, maybe a little too much. Still, after thousands of years, they hadn’t understood why mortals were rightly sensitive to the subject.

Persephone was silent, she didn't want to argue, because deep down she knew that Demeter was saddened. She had taken her interest in other subjects of study as a small betrayal. She had never stopped her from reading her mortal novels, nor had she prevented her from enrolling in the University of Law as a common mortal, but she had always tried to draw water at her own mill and bring Persephone back on her steps. How can she blame her, anyway? It had to be a considerable test to give birth to a new, lesser Goddess, who, moreover, had preserved almost nothing in her looking of Uranus' ancient heritage.

Demeter shook her head again, but she didn't insist on that either. She smiled bitterly and put her big hands on her daughter's minute shoulders .

"Well, at least you'll go to some other divine conference, won't you? It's the last day of the event, I want you to see some of the other Gods, maybe they can get to know you a little. I have heard that there some lecture at the Law University as well, you could go and hear what they have to say."

Not that Demeter was actively interested in the lineup, to be honest, because if she knew who the speakers were, she certainly wouldn't have encouraged Persephone to participate. The young Goddess chuckled inwardly, knowing that Demeter would not approve what she was about to hear.

"Of course I'll go! There are Dike and Astraea, they’ll talk about social justice. And there’ll be also a very _interesting_ seminar held by the Gods of the Underworld, about the judgments of the dead souls.”

She accompanied that last sentence with a broad and exaggerated smile, hoping that it would have the effect of calming the disapproval of the harvest Goddess. But this was not the case: Demeter frowned, making no secret of her very little enthusiasm.

"The Underworld. Great. Such a party."

"Why, is it a _party_ when you talk about fertilizing to the agricultural students?"

But Demeter didn’t even seem to have heard that last stab, and continued on her way:

"And who will be there as a guest?"

Persephone shrugged, faking ignorance. She walked away from her mother, turned her back to her, walking indifferently.

"Well, the usual: Hel, Cernunnos, Anubis..."

"Anubis would look better on teaching taxidermy. And then? Will there be... _him_?"

Persephone pursed her lips and opened her eyes, looking falsely innocent. She assumed the most vague and ignorant expression she managed to disguise.

" _Him_ who?"

"You know who."

"Mom, you can say his name, he's not Voldemort."

But Demeter didn’t want to be teased, and in fact didn’t give in, didn’t pronounce that name. The scene then stalled a few seconds before an exasperated Persephone unlocked it:

"Ah, you say _Hades_?" she asked, sarcastically, "I don't know, I haven't read all the names on the flyer. It's not like he shows up very often, maybe he won't even come."

Demeter looked up to heaven, without the slightest intention to conceal the annoyance she felt towards her dark brother. The same thing happened with all the other male brothers, in truth, it wasn’t an antipathy reserved only to the God of the Underworld.

Persephone, who didn’t know Hades but who hated preconceptions, didn’t hide a slight irritation.

"Who cares who are the guests? I just have to listen to a lecture, I’m not going to marry him!"

"Don’t joke about this, Kore!” Demeter reproached her, then relaxed just a bit, “And anyway, you wouldn’t like him. That God is so _boring_."

"Being boring isn’t a crime, is it?"

"Just spend ten minutes with him, then you’ll tell me."

Demeter shook her head and went to the door, to fix the last details of her divine figure, and then finally set off for her conference. Persephone, as she saw her come out, bending under the beam, stopped her:

"Mom, why do you hate your brothers so much?"

Demeter stopped halfway, thoughtful and reluctant.

"It’s not that I hate them, it is that... they are men, and they are Kings. Power and testosterone aren’t a good match."

"Okay, I can understand Zeus and Poseidon, they’re always surrounded by scandals. But Hades? He doesn't look so despicable, he never even appears on the surface."

Demeter shrugged.

"He is the most reliable of the three, but he has his faults. And, between us, it's not him you have to bet on, if you want to look at Olympus. Make friends with Dike, rather."

Demeter didn’t add anything else: she left the room definitively, and from that moment on Persephone heard her muttering her speech in a low voice, repeating it for the great event.

Persephone left her crusade in favor of the misunderstood Gods and decided to dress up. It was still very hot, so she opted for a short, white cotton dress with blue decorations, with lots of tassels on the edge of the skirt. She adjusted her long, frizzy walnut hair in a braid. That day, the spontaneous flowers growing in her hair were small and pretty peach buds: she didn't disturb them, hoping that they would hatch once they came out in the sun, to decorate her figure better.

She looked at herself in the mirror for the last time and saw how every day she seemed more mortal than the previous one, in her extremely limited height of one meter sixty-five, her tan and her round and chubby thighs. And once again it came to her mind that this was the only usefulness of her omnipotence: to make beautiful flowery hairstyles, cultivate mini-cacti on the desk, and finally listen to a mother suggesting her how to climb to success through the right friendships (provided that Demeter, with the suggest about Dike, wasn’t implying something sapphic) .

Well, that was her life now, wasn't it? It was her destiny already written, as Demeter asserted. And all her metaphysical purposes of justice, eternal prosperity, mercy towards adoring humanity were nothing more than the dreams of a naive little girl.

_Now, did you get your answer, Epicurus?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this is set in Italy (Persephone is sicilian in the myth and I wanted to mantain this detail), I preferred not to convert the units of measure. Just know that Demeter foot size is a US 16 (if I got it right, lol), and she's 6,5 feet tall. She's like that because she is daughter of the titan Cronus, and like all her brothers and sisters she's GIGANTIC. Poor Kore is 5,2 feet.  
> Well now, next chapter will be about Hades. Are you excited to know him? *.*


	2. The divine ratio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TODAY'S GLOSSARY  
> Ratio legis: latin phrase, which indicates the reasons behind a law. Asking what's the ratio is like asking: "Why is it written like that? What was the original purpose of it?".

The last one of September was notoriously a sacred week, very important in the human and divine European calendar. It was right between the end of the months of light and the beginning of those of darkness: almost all the Gods in that period were ending their work, like Demeter who by now had largely reaped the harvest, or beginning it, as Skadi, Norse Goddess of winter. This meant that almost all of Europe's Gods were active and present on earth, which made that week ideal for organizing congresses and gatherings, even infra-pantheon.

From this was born the High Polytheist Conference Cycle, often abbreviated to HPCC. Taking advantage of their almost unanimous presence on earth, the interested Gods made themselves available to devote some of their time to direct meetings with students from various universities. It was a strategy to maintain direct contact with the mortals, which after the 2001 _Revelation_ were still much, much in need to understand and accept. It was an idea of Athena and Brigid, Goddesses of wisdom. Who else could propose something like that?

And so, for some years now, the HPCC had been held regularly, in rotation in various cities of the continent. At first only the Gods of the Classic and Nordic Pantheon had attended, but, noticing how human students crowded the halls of the universities, joined various Gods from other continents as well, all very anxious to squeeze attention and be acclaimed: there were many Egyptians, some Indu, and in the last year there had been also the Quetzalcoatl, although he hadn’t proved to be very talkative.

And that's why Persephone, that day, had to endure Demeter with stage anxiety, and why she was now trying to get into the university in a flood of excited young humans. Humans who, given her un-divine aspect, didn’t even recognize her and treated her as their equal. Well, not that Persephone expected or wanted anything different, of course. At the time, she was just hoping to find a seat at the Gods of the Underworld seminary.

She lowered her eyes and checked the screen of her cell phone as she proceeded slowly through the crowd, holding the bag tightly. There was a message notification. It was Caterina: _I held you a seat, hurry up_. And immediately afterwards: _you could ask for reserved seats._ Finally: _by the way, Anubis smells like a dog._

Persephone laughed. She wanted to tell her that she was coming, and that in any case there was no need to make jokes about Anubis as he had no reputation for being merciful with soul weighing and fault measurement. But she couldn’t even write the beginning of the message, then she felt pushed from behind, and decided to let it go.

After a long time, she finally arrived at the door of the classroom, which was never closed because the incoming stream was incessant. Finally, Persephone caught sight of her friend's short blonde hair, Cate, in the tenth row.

Persefone made the slalom in the crowd, slipped into the corridor of chairs and sat down with a sigh of relief, aware of being late.

"Oh, well, hi there! On time as usual." The friend welcomed her, severe and playful at the same time.

"Sorry! I didn't think I would find this crowd."

"There’s always a crowd when Gods are around, you more than anyone else should know."

"I didn't think for _these_ Gods. I thought you were afraid."

Cate shrugged in a careless expression.

"No, actually I think they intrigue us even more. The charm of the dark side!" she turned a little in her chair and pointed behind her, "Many people have come from other universities too. I saw a group of theology up there. I think we’ll talk more about how scary death is than laws."

Only then Persephone become interested in the large stage to see who was present as speaker. The Celtic Cernunnos wasn’t there, but she had expected it: he was a free spirit and for him ignoring appointments was the norm. Instead there was Hel, Queen of Helheimr, with her web of wrinkles on her old face, as well as the already well-known Anubis, God of the Egyptian Underworld. Nobody else.

Even Cate had lost herself in analyzing the speakers and had a special regard for the half-jackal, which in fact, to be a God of the Afterlife, had always presented himself as affable and even sympathetic. Rigorous but sociable. Well, like a dog.

He was standing, talking to the professor who would present the event. He seemed to be a lot of fun. He wore a dark suit, and he would even look sober, if in addition to that he didn’t show off what seemed all the gold of the pharaonic dynasties. He wore rings, in fact, at least two for each finger of the dark hands; on the shoulders, big and gaudy gold necklaces, decorated with alabaster and lapis lazuli stones, the representation of beetles, hieroglyphs and looped crosses; and, finally, earrings of the same precious metal, to adorn the long dark ears, which moved, bent, rotated continuously, to capture every little sound.

"You say he can hear us?" Cate asked, excited as a huge fan in the presence of her favorite celebrity.

"I'm _sure_ he can hear us." Persephone confirmed.

"He has something interesting. But maybe I shouldn't say it. It sounds so _furry_."

As soon as she said it, Anubis, at least twenty meters away from them, whipped his sharp nose. He stared with his head tilted a little to the side.

"Oh shit! Can he hear us _for real_?" Cate exclaimed, embarrassed, covering her mouth with her hand and looking down.

"I told you! Why don’t you listen to me?"

Persephone teased her and laughed with her, amused especially because she knew that Anubis wasn’t offended. She didn’t know him on an intimate level, she had only seen him sometimes at informal infra-pantheon dinners, but he had always shown himself to be a God with a strong sense of humor. And it was rare, especially for the protectors of the Underworld. In fact, Anubis did nothing: he went back to talking to the professor, nodding, with the shadow of a disquieting smile on his animal face.

The conference was about to begin, and it was at that very moment, when Persephone was now sure that he wouldn’t have shown up, that Hades made his entrance.

They saw him enter the door directly next to the podium, bending to pass. Persephone, who had never seen him in person, lost a beat. Not so much for how he looked, but for the effect he created around him: the humans moved away, leaving a bubble of empty space around him. They looked away, trying to give him their backs. Even the professor, who was still talking to Anubis, seeing him pass by, interrupted the conversation and moved away.

Suddenly, the environment seemed colder, the colors less saturated. Silence fell in the first few rows.

"Oh Gods, he's... _huge_." Commented the ever-out of place Caterina, expanding her eyes.

"He’s a son of Cronus" said Persephone, "he’s a half-titan, that’s why he’s tall."

He was indeed tall. As much and more than Demeter, and like all the other five Cronids, the very first and oldest of the Gods. They had inherited that remarkable size, and it was the only feature they had in common. Persephone, belonging to a fourth generation now bastardized, hadn’t been lucky enough to inherit even a bit of it.

"So, can _he_ hear us?"

"Er... I don't know, I don't think so... I don't think he has any particular hearing powers."

Cate took it as an endorsement to her gossip:

"Well, then I can say he’s a hottie."

Persephone looked at him better and, actually, she wouldn’t have properly called him _hottie._ He was indeed handsome: beauty after all was a characteristic of the Gods in general and of the Cronids in particular. But he wasn't of the same athletic beauty as Poseidon, nor the virile beauty of Zeus. Indeed, the resemblance between the three kings wasn’t so marked, so much so that it would’ve been difficult to recognize them as brothers, not seeing them side to side.

No, Persephone found Hades, that first time she saw him, more than anything else _unique._ Unique in his pronounced nose, in his greek profile, in his too pale complexion, in his curly obsidian-colored hair, in his elegant and impeccable way of wearing the suit. What struck her most, was that he was clean-shaven, even this one unique style choice, among the male Cronids.

"Well, I wouldn’t say _hottie_..." Persephone muttered.

"Look, you can say it, even if he's your uncle."

Persephone rolled her eyes, annoyed and embarrassed.

"He's not my uncle."

"He’s your mother's brother, isn't he? So he's your uncle."

Humans. Simple and too clinging to their beliefs.

Persephone, embarrassed, looked down and tried not to show how annoying it was. Because he really _wasn't_ her uncle. He was his mother's brother, and that was the end of it. Divine relationships weren’t so easy to explain: they had nothing to do with the family relationships to which mortals were accustomed, and the same was true from a biological and genetic point of view. Hades could also be her mother's brother, but personally he had never been present as an uncle. And, given the uniqueness of the Gods, being brothers, or children, or grandchildren, was nothing different than being complete strangers. They didn’t resemble one another, didn’t have genes in common and, indeed, some weren’t even born from a uterus or sexual intercourse, such as Aphrodite, originating from fertilized sea foam.

So no, the only kinship that Persephone felt authentic, among the countless that she could boast, was that with her mother Demeter. For the rest, the other Gods weren’t family. And certainly Hades wasn’t her uncle.

But she had explained all this a million times, and Caterina or any other human being had never given ground. For them, Olympus would always have been a conglomeration of incestuous supernatural beings.

"He’s not my uncle, he doesn’t even know me" she tried to repeat it without effort, just out of habit, "anyway I didn’t say that he’s not beautiful, just... he has a somewhat dark attitude."

"He’s a God of the dead, did you expect him dressed in pink?"

No, of course, but God of the dead wasn’t necessarily synonymous with macabre attitude, and Anubis was the proof. Even old Hel sometimes smiled. Hades, however, with his stern and bleak look hidden behind dark sunglasses, gave the impression of being in a bad mood, and that that bad mood was uninterrupted. Demeter had called him boring... Persephone would’ve called him _lugubrious_.

She wondered if they had ever met, maybe it had happened when she was still a child and couldn’t remember. But actually Hades was notoriously unfriendly, he usually avoided social events and it was more than plausible that he hadn't moved from the Underworld for more than twenty consecutive years. This explained why he didn’t give her a glance when he was inside, never, completely indifferent to the presence of a minor Goddess, perhaps even unaware.

Persephone lowered her eyes, contrite. She was used to it. She was used to that treatment, but still the first thought was always to tie up with her own kind: she unconsciously expected them to do something for her, if nothing else, a greeting. And instead, the other Gods didn't even recognize her, just as the humans. And the Cronids… not even to talk about them. They were the oldest among them, and this made them even less interested in the lower categories, whether they were new Gods, demigods, or humans. They lived in their ancient bubble of ancient customs, unperturbed.

Hades, after ignoring everyone in the room, except for a fleeting glance towards Anubis, did nothing but go and sit at the desk, next to Hel. Now that he was no longer standing, those present relaxed.

Anubis laughed a couple more times, almost howling: whatever he was saying to the professor, it must have been fun. Then he also went to the desk and took his place, placing a powerful slap on the shoulders of a neutral, detached Hades, who seemed not to have even noticed.

It didn't take long for the conference to begin. The professor was excited, and took a seat on the podium to introduce the guests with a formal and enthusiastic attitude. He introduced Anubis, then Hel, who gave the impression of being just a grumpy and misunderstood granny. When the time came for Hades, he made a gesture with his head towards the audience, as a greeting, without taking off his sunglasses.

"Good morning."

Just those two, cold words. No hesitation, no particular tone. Dry, precise, rigorous.

It was at that moment that Persephone first thought of Hades as one who liked to pass sentences.

Always.

Whatever he said.

The conference was fairly superficial, even a little disappointing. But Persephone realized that it was just her feeling, because the rest of the audience hung on the lips of the deities. They were all excited just to be there, in the presence of three major Gods, and not much mattered what they had to say. They idolized them for what they were, not for what they proved to be worth.

_As it had always been, for ever and ever._

They talked about very vague subjects, therefore, also because everyone knew that it wasn’t so much a meeting to learn: it was a meeting to maintain a civil contact. The Gods themselves never spoke too specifically about their afterlife, sticking to the information that humans already knew. So Anubis, in his heavy arabic accent, spoke of weighing the heart, and even made a joke about whether he would choose a particularly heavy feather to evaluate that of the professor, who had been so kind; Hel spoke of the ethical difficulty of evaluating acts of courage for the believers of the Norse religion, because in modern times it was very difficult to die in battle and gain access to Valhalla; finally, Hades spoke of the different fates reserved for different souls, starting from the guilty souls, passing through the neutrals, ending with the deserving ones.

He was obviously the most laconic. He didn't give the idea of one who liked to talk, not at all. He was at ease with the audience, perhaps because he had become accustomed to sitting on the throne of the Underworld, but he wasn’t one to get lost in chatter. He didn’t seem to particularly enjoy the attentions of mortals, and that for a God was more unique than rare.

In the end, the professor closed the discussion. He let the audience applaud and finally he announced that there was time for some questions.

Several hands rose, and almost all were for Anubis. It was normal: he was the only one who gave the idea of liking them, and perhaps the most interesting to humans, because of his animalistic appearance.

After more than five questions all addressed to Anubis, the professor asked if there was anyone interested in asking something specifically to Hel or Hades.

And it was at that moment, when Persephone saw that no one dared raise a hand, that something moved in her: compassion. If she had been there on stage, she would’ve been ashamed to notice that nobody wanted to ask her anything.

She waited a little, feeling the weight of the embarrassment of hundreds of people all on herself. She turned, scanned the lines behind, but saw no movement.

Then she pursed her lips and, cursing her excessive empathy, raised a hand.

"Yes, the young lady in the center of the room!" The professor urged her.

Persephone swallowed. She glanced at Caterina and saw her in disbelief: she was asking her with a look and a raised eyebrow what the hell was she going to do.

Well, good luck, Persephone herself had no idea.

She rose reluctantly to her feet, searching for something intelligent in her mind to ask. But when a microphone appeared in front of her mouth, it was still too early, and her mind was still blocked.

She opened her mouth and closed it again. The professor had to notice the reluctance, because he tried to help her start.

"Who are you addressing to?”

"Ahm..." she felt compassion for them both, but she knew her own Pantheon better, so she opted for that, "Hades. I have a question for Hades."

She swallowed, feeling like the worst liar in history. She searched for something to say desperately, digging all the information she had learned about that uncle - not uncle. But she realized she knew very little. Her mother didn't talk about him and Persephone certainly had never been actively interested in the Underworld, being immortal.

She looked towards Hades, who was now waiting for the question, and found him still neutral. He was indecipherable behind those sunglasses. He could be angry, amused, or indifferent equally. It made her uncomfortable.

"Ah, I actually..." she gasped again, realizing too much time was passing, "actually I wanted to ask... about the Styx."

"The Styx?" The professor said incredulously.

"Yes, the river... the river of the Underworld, you know..."

A river. How had it occurred to her to ask about a river? How could it be inherent in her studies?

A thousand ideas came to her, one more stupid than the other: from asking for wastewater management to the place of the spring. But she wasn’t either in the University of Environmental Engineering, nor in that of Geology.

Then, just as she was about to give in and sit down, it was Hades himself who came to help her: he stretched out on the desk and leaned over his microphone. When he spoke, as expected he was neutral, but he didn't seem bothered. He had just the attitude of a gentleman who had noticed a girl's embarrassment and was trying to remedy.

"The Styx is the most famous of the five infernal rivers. It always amazes souls with surprise, because it’s the first they meet. In fact, the first, bland selection among the dead take place there, even before arriving at the Court. I beg pardon, I had failed to mention it in my speech."

He had taken the blame. He had turned Persephone's embarrassment into an _almost_ intelligent question. And she was... she couldn't even tell, actually. Flattered? Yes, but also astonished. She would’ve expected to be treated with disregard.

It made her smile weakly. She had the opportunity to relax for a moment, and the ideas flowed again. She finally remembered some notions, and managed to take over the reins of the speech.

Inside, she thanked Hades with all her soul. And she wondered if he too was grateful for her immolation only to keep him from being left without questions.

"Well, actually I wanted to ask, specifically, about the unburied dead."

Persephone paused, probing the ground. But saw that he continued to observe her without emotion, and then resumed:

"The unburied dead are forced to stay a long time on the shores of the Styx, am I right?"

"A century." Hades confirmed, cold.

"And... why? Do you value dying without burial so badly that they have to wait a century before even reaching the court?"

She realized that it was a little impertinent as an insinuation, but it was certainly a smarter question than the first one, and therefore she couldn’t suppress it.

Hades, if he was offended, didn’t show it.

"They cannot go to the Court just because not to have been buried is not their fault. I will not judge their soul for that."

"Then why punish them?"

"It's not a punishment."

He said it with an almost innocent spontaneity, as if he were wondering why anyone should have considered the matter so pessimistically.

Persephone cast a glance at her friend and saw that she was staring at her from a seat with her eyes bulging.

"Excuse me if I insist, but... then what is the reason why they are treated differently? What is the _ratio_ of this... this law?"

And at that moment, for the first time, Persephone saw a semblance of _interest_ in the always flat face of the Inexorable.

"Unusual." He commented, laconically.

"Unusual? What's unusual?"

“To connect a concept as human as the _ratio legis_ to the unburied dead waiting on the shores of the Styx. An intelligent question."

He lost only a moment in that eulogy, which however didn’t seem so. It didn't sound like a concession. It sounded more like a matter of fact than a compliment.

After a brief pause, he resumed:

"If thou talk about _ratio legis_ , I am forced to respond to it with the equally human concept of _deterrence_ , Miss."

Only thanks to that last sentence, Persephone realized that Hades was really using the _thou_ referring to her. She found it as gallant as it was obsolete.

"Not giving the unburied dead access to the Court immediately is not a punishment for them, believe me" the God quietly and firmly resumed, "the real reason for this practice is to encourage the living to bury the dead. It was necessary to impose it, because during the great epidemics not burying the corpses had worsened the hygienic conditions, so much to cause an excessive influx of souls in my kingdom."

"So, is it an indirect practice that wants to have an effect on those still alive, the family of the dead?"

"Precisely. How would thou feel, Miss, if thou died knowing that a relative awaits revenge on the shores of the Styx, because they weren’t buried for thy negligence? One hundred years is enough, souls have time to wait for the death of all their relatives, to make them pay the affront. And this awareness acts as a deterrent for the living, who seek to bury loved ones at all costs. Result: no corpses left in plain air, no epidemics, no genocides."

Persephone had listened raptly to the speech, and perhaps even a little worried by the cold and pragmatic logic of that procedure.

"So" she dared, "do you punish souls for them to take revenge on their relatives?"

"I do not understand why thou persist in using the verb _to punish_ , but yes."

Once again, Hades didn’t seem either offended or amused. He was immobile, unchanging, and Persephone began to understand why Demeter had called him boring. It was hard to tell if he felt emotions, for the neutrality he conveyed.

"I use the verb _to_ _punish_ because in any case innocent souls can receive a harsh treatment."

"A century is nothing compared to eternity. Then they can be judged and receive eternal bliss, as long as they deserve it."

Persefone shook her head, stubborn, taken by the speech much more than she had expected.

"A hundred years for a human being _is_ an eternity!"

"If the prospect is so scary, just don't convert to my Pantheon. It is enough to pray to another God, and there will be a different treatment."

He had the ability to play everything as obvious, straightforward, although to the empathic ears of Persephone all sounded like a cruel and Machiavellian trick.

"Well, it seems to me a too severe treatment."

"It's effective."

"It's... it's inhumane."

"Of course it's inhumane. It's _divine_."

There was a pause, and only at that moment did the young Goddess notice that the audience was whispering. The professor was about to intervene and mediate, but it was the same Hades who prevented him, with a dry and peremptory gesture of the hand.

Again, he wasn't angry. He wasn’t amused. He wasn’t offended. He was nothing.

Persephone shook her head, realizing that she could no longer pull herself out of the conversation, even if she wanted to. Hades was waiting for another reply, then she swallowed and gave it to him:

"I don’t understand why the concepts of divinity and compassion must necessarily be opposed."

And, finally, for the first time, the shadow of a smile. His thin lips rippled under his important nose. He moved closer to the microphone, a little less neutral than he had always been: he gave the vague impression that he was going to use sarcasm.

"And I do not understand why the concept of compassion is so important to thee, Miss. But we are not going to discuss our mutual Mysteries among all this mortality, I hope, _Divine Persephone._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "He DoEsN'T eVeN KnOw MeEeE!11!1!!!!1!" - Cit. Persephone, 2019 xD  
> Jokes aside, fast update this time, just because I wanted both protagonists to be presented as quickly as possible! Oh, and about Hades using the "thou", here comes a curiosity: in italian he refers to her with "voi", which is a plural form. It's an old way to be respectful and formal. But since in english wasn't possible, I chose the old english "thou" to give the same ancient feeling. He doesn't use it with everyone, just in formal environments and with unfamiliar people. So you'll see he won't use it talking with his brothers and sisters, or with "inferior humans" xD As usual, thank you for reading, comments are appreciated and... until next time, my little mortals! *.*


	3. The crumbs of Pluto

_Divine Persephone._

He hadn’t missed a detail, had he? Neither her nature nor her name.

The young Goddess, who until then was sure she hadn’t been recognized, felt her cheeks flare up and her heart fell to her stomach. A very _human_ emotional reaction _,_ Demeter would’ve said.

Persephone felt that the room was coming to life: the students were now all craning their necks to look at her. Those in front turned, those behind whispered. The photographers and journalists in the back, previously interested in the guests only, began to shoot with flash and turn the attention in her direction. The guy who was sitting next to her was staring at her with his mouth wide open and he hadn’t noticed that the pen had fallen from his hands.

Finally, Cate, upset. She looked at Persephone from below with a terrified expression.

" _He knows you!_ " She mimed with her lips.

Persephone shot her a sarcastic look. She replied with equally eloquent and sardonic muteness:

" _Oh,_ _really? I hadn’t noticed._ "

Then, when she felt that the flowers with which she had decorated her hair were changing color, turning to an embarrassed red, she smiled in the direction of Hades.

"Yes... sorry."

She sat down stiffly, her lips pressed together to hold back a hysterical giggle. She wondered why it should always be that way: why did she laugh when she was embarrassed? And why did those damn flowers always betray her? It was a very cruel fate. She would’ve liked to be more neutral, like Hades. Well... maybe a little less than Hades. Actually she didn't mind being the center of attention, she was a sociable young woman. But she liked it at parties, among friends. Not when there were journalists, because they knew how to be _really_ invasive. And she, on the other hand, hadn’t the macabre attitude or the physical features of a Titan to her advantage, to escape them in case of too violent assaults. Even for that she didn’t mind being mistaken for a mortal girl: at least she could walk the streets without too many thoughts.

There was just a moment of immobility on the part of the present community, then it all passed: the professor resumed his speech, with a strange but polite manner, thanking Persephone and Hades for the speech. Then he had to think that for just one morning it was enough, because he didn't grant other questions and ended the session, greeting the speakers and inciting the audience to three long applauses for each of them.

When it was over, Persephone was among the first to leap from the chair. She couldn't wait to get out of there, to avoid being stopped by journalists or mortals eager for an autograph. But then, why? Why did they ask for an autograph only when they understood who she was? No one prayed to her, no one knew her, but once they heard she was a Goddess, _voilà_! She suddenly turned into Britney Spears.

She apologized at least a dozen times to get to the end of the row of seats. Once in the corridor, she took Caterina by the hand and literally began to escape from the lecture hall, making her way with her shoulders. Some of those closest to her tried to stop her, to hold her, but she tried to get away as quickly as possible.

It was a very brief escape, actually. The space was too limited, the people overflowing: within a few seconds the corridors had already been filled, and the journalists had accumulated.

They made a wall in front of her. Persephone saw so many camera lenses staring threateningly at her like monstrous eyes. The flashes blinded her and forced her to stop. Then she smiled, solar, to try to keep up appearances at least.

They asked her if they could ask her a few questions, all together, voices confusing one on the other. Some didn't even know who they were in front of, and they were making quick calls to colleagues to find information.

Persephone moved back a step, but Cate warned her that even behind it was full of students who wanted to meet her. Then she had to stand still, smiling and nodding.

"I’d be happy to answer all your questions, but... I have... I have to go to my class, seriously."

But a crowd reasons very differently from an individual, and therefore nobody let her pass. Persephone could already imagine her mother's outburst when she learned of what had happened. Anxious and apprehensive as she was, she would’ve forced her to always go to university with bodyguards.

And, meanwhile, the questions were piling up, confused, tangled together:

"Are you a student of this university? A Goddess?"

"What do you protect? You look like a Goddess of fertility."

"Pantheon?"

"Relatives?"

"What’s your name again?"

"Per... Per... Pro..."

"Prospera?"

"Proserpina?"

 _Proserpina?_ By Olympus, such a disgusting name. How could they understand Proserpina from Persephone?

"Divine Proserpina, do you want to say something for the audience?"

She tried to say that her name wasn’t Proserpina, but they were so eager to make her talk, that they didn't listen to what she had to say. Paradoxical. Humans know how to be strange at times.

She was just about to surrender and dedicate some time to their curiosity, but suddenly everyone calmed down: the journalists became less urgent, the students fell silent, many of them left. The crowd instantly became less dense and mortally silent.

_Mortally?_

Persephone turned back, in fact, and saw that Hades was approaching: a calm but determined pace, his hands in his pockets, the indecipherable look behind his lenses. He didn't even need to say anything, because the humans stepped back and gave him their back. They treated him like a superstition, a black cat crossing the street. They slipped away, awed by his stature and by his aura, as if he could take them all to the Underworld right away.

When he reached her, Persephone felt a shiver go up her spine, and wondered if Hades really carried the cold around him. 

The God stopped short of her, and Persephone had to look up, leaning back to see him in the face. A normal gesture, since she was used to living with Demeter. But Hades was taller than her mother, and the idea of superiority he conveyed was more severe.

He said nothing to journalists or students, because his presence was enough. Moreover, as Persephone had already noticed, he wasn’t one to get lost in chatter. So he just let a veil of terror fall on everyone, staring at the crowd from behind his sunglasses. It didn't take long: just a handful of looks and everyone was leaving, scared and disappointed at the same time. The journalists, usually so determined, turned their backs and they all left the classroom.

Suddenly, from crowded, the auditorium had become semi-desert. There were only Persephone, Caterina, Hades, Anubis who was rushing towards them, and some group of people in a far corner.

"Er... thank you?" Persephone whispered politely, not very sure it was the right thing to say. She didn't even know if Hades was there for her: maybe he was just passing by to reach the exit.

Persephone opened a broad smile, trying to convey positive feelings. And, as she did so, she heard Cate cling to her arm. Persephone looked at her to see if she was okay, but found her terrified. She wanted to leave like all the others, she had remained just for loyalty.

Hades really had a bad effect on souls. Poor things.

"I must apologize." The God of the Dead began, breathing quietly, regularly and deeply as a metronome.

"For what?"

"It wasn’t my intention to ruin thy cover."

Persephone shook her head and played down with a wave of her hand.

"Oh, no problem, it happens every now and then. It’s not your fault... er, _thy_ fault..."

At that moment Anubis joined them and stood next to Hades. He was tall too, but to be honest his ears helped him a lot. He looked first at the God, then at Persephone, then at Caterina, who had been left alone in the midst of three Gods and looked more humanly lost than ever.

Persephone tried to unblock the situation.

"However, we haven’t been introduced properly. I’m Persephone, as it’s now obvious. Goddess of flowering and spring. And this is Caterina…"

"Goddess of the _I shouldn’t be here_." Her friend completed, still with a lost look.

The joke tore an uproarious laugh from Anubis, who raised his nose upwards, shaking all the trinkets he was wearing. Then he made his way between Hades and Persephone, without any grace, to go to the mortal woman who made him laugh so much. He put his arm around her shoulders, with the clear intention of calming her, but at the same time _too_ exuberant.

"Mortal! You're fun, ya know?"

"Yeah?"

The blonde Caterina had her eyes wide open and her smile confused as Anubis shook her shoulders too enthusiastically. 

Meanwhile Hades had remained inexpressive, so much so that Persephone began to think he had fossilized. She felt an urgent need to talk to him, to disengage him from his blackout.

"However, really, no problem with the name. I'm the one who should apologize for the persistent questions."

And at that point, finally, the God of the Underworld defrosted and moved his head an inch. Persephone would even have sworn to see a timid smile, in the slightly ruffled corners of his lips.

"It was a good topic. But I couldn't talk about it in front of all those _living_ humans."

In the last word he put such a neutral disdain that Persephone felt the flowers freeze on her head. That God obviously didn’t like mortals very much, as they didn’t like him.

As Persephone would soon learn, however, before being a God, before being a competitive disdainer of mortality, Hades was a gentleman. He would never have allowed himself to outrage a woman so roughly, not even a human one. That's why he immediately turned to Caterina, still in shock in Anubis' grip, and hurriedly apologized:

"No offense to those present."

"Er… never mind..."

And he also made her the huge favor to take a significant look at the jackal God, as if it were an unwritten rule between them that he warned him when he was exceeding the socially acceptable limit of expansiveness. Anubis, in fact, straightened up, smiled, let go of Caterina and adjusted the collar of his shirt, pretending detachment.

Persephone again felt the urgent need to introduce a topic of conversation, because it seemed that none of the other three had the slightest intention.

"Maybe we could better apologize to each other over a coffee."

It came out spontaneously, impulsive, as spontaneous and impulsive as the question about the river Styx. She immediately wondered what in Olympus had crossed her mind to invite a king in a coffee bar, but she thought that remaining silent would’ve been worse and even more embarrassing.

At that point, the Goddess expected that after all Hades would, however gallantly, decline the invitation. She believed he would seize the opportunity to say goodbye. Something like: _very obliged, but my time’s up, roses are red, violets are blue, I have to go and torture the souls of the parricides._

But no. The God of the Underworld, the one that Demeter had called boring, was capable of surprising the interlocutors, and he demonstrated it to Persephone for the first time that day.

"I’d be honored."

And he smiled, even. It was the first sincere smile that the young woman saw on the face of the Inexorable. And it was a beautiful smile, she had to admit. Thin, elegant, even quite broad. Not very frequent, of course, but because of it even more valuable.

Anubis and Caterina disappeared just outside the auditorium. In opposite directions, of course. Caterina took the opportunity of a group of friends to get out of embarrassment, and Persephone couldn’t blame her for it: the presence of as many as three Gods to bear would’ve been too much for anyone, especially for an atheist. Anubis instead announced that he had to attend another meeting. He and Hades, though they gave the idea of being friends, barely said goodbye to each other, casting a meaningful glance.

And therefore Persephone was left alone with the God of the Underworld, as they left the university, going down the clear steps of the entrance and heading into the street. As had happened in the lecture hall, no one dared approach them, and Persephone for the first time since she had woken up that morning felt she could breathe.

She wasn't nervous. Should she have? She wasn't sure. But to tell the truth Hades was a very quiet man. Even when he didn't say anything, and it happened often, he didn't impose heavy or embarrassed silence on others. He was silent because _he had nothing to say._ He was completely laid, calm, even serene. He breathed slowly, seemed not to have a single concern in the world, and transmitted all his sense of cold peace even to those present. Well, at least to Persephone. On humans he seemed to have a slightly different effect. But perhaps it was also the bad name, Persephone wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

The young Goddess, as they walked down the short road to the first available café, took a moment to look at him. She saw him tall, dark, kissed by the September sun, his profile with an aquiline nose in contrast with the light of the sky. It occurred to her that he wasn’t fit for either the climate or the brightness. Perhaps that was the reason why he was always wearing glasses.

"It must be very annoying to come to the surface for you... I mean, for thee."

Hades didn't get upset. Sometimes he gave the impression that he hadn't even heard, but then he always answered. In his time.

"Talk as thou prefer. Mine is just an ancient habit."

"Actually, I'm not a big fan of formalisms."

At least, not when addressed to her, because deep inside she didn’t consider herself worthy. She would’ve preferred talk normally and receive the same from him. But, from the way he turned his head in her direction, she sensed that Hades, God of inflexibility, wasn’t going to please her in that respect.

"I had guessed it."

He looked her up and down, and Persephone had the impression that he was judging her simple white cotton dress, or her slightly messy braid, or perhaps the not so noble tan. But she kept her chin up, trying to look a little less short and useless, a little less like a smurf.

"In any case" the God resumed, returning to look forward with his hands in his pockets, "to answer thy question, yes, the surface is a significant challenge."

As expected, he maintained his register, and Persephone would’ve gladly rolled her eyes. She tried not to insist, though.

"Is the light too intense? Is that why you wear glasses?"

"It’s one of the reasons."

 _One of the reasons._ What kind of answer was that? It sounded like a mysterious line that implied a further explanation, but that explanation never came. At that moment Persephone didn’t feel like investigating too much, but she was assuming already that Hades should be someone who liked to give partial answers. He really loved it _as hell._

Persephone retained her laughter at her own mental joke, and regretted not being confident enough to be able to externalize it.

At that moment they arrived at the café, and Hades, who was at ease in the open and in the high-ceilinged rooms of the university, seemed to rise further in that cramped environment and occupy all the space alone. His head was a little bent, for fear of slamming it against the top of the piano bar, with the dangling beer glasses. Everyone present reacted to him petrifying. The ones closest to the exit slipped out, without even covering up their terror.

"People can be really rude, sometimes." Persephone joked, trying to free him from embarrassment. But maybe She was underestimating him: he didn’t seem at all embarrassed. He seemed neutral, as usual.

"It doesn't matter, I'm used to it."

Persephone leaned against the counter, smiling encouragingly.

"Actually, I’d like to inspire a minimum of fear, too. Instead humans usually submerge me."

They ordered to a baffled bartender. Hades chose a black, smooth, sugar-free espresso. _Boring_. Persephone, on the other hand, ordered a coffee garnished with a hazelnut topping and whipped cream.

"I was sincere, anyway" Hades specified at one point, in a voice so profound that it almost made him sound ashamed, "I didn't think of triggering that reaction from all those _living humans_. I’m mortified, I didn't want to put thee in danger."

But Persephone shook her head, smiling and thinking that maybe he was trying too hard, with all those apologies.

"No problem, really. I'll have to start getting used to it, anyway."

Hades nodded, relieved. He sighed, pulled back his black curls, and finally finished his coffee. When he put the cup down, Persephone noticed that he had huge, veined hands. She tried to make a quick comparison with hers, and the only thing she could think of looking at them, while she was holding the cup, was that they seemed small and chubby.

What an idiot thing, to be ashamed of the hands. But now she couldn't think of anything else, so she hurried to finish the coffee, just to tie them behind her back and hide them, wondering at the same time if there were exercises to make them lose weight.

The hands.

As if the rest of the body didn't need it.

She blinked a few times and tried to clear her mind. She cleared her throat and spoke again.

"It was a great conference, however. I wanted to say this in person."

Hades smiled sincerely for the second time that morning.

"Thank thou. And also, for asking the question. I appreciated it."

He had noticed, then. Persephone felt a beginning of blush on her cheeks and decided to joke about it.

"Yes, let's say I could think about a better strategy. But a good debate came out, didn't it? We made a good impression."

"More thou than I."

"More us than poor Hel, I’d say."

And at that moment Hades giggled.

Wow. It seemed so strange on his part... he had spent hours cold and neutral. And still he was, most of the time. Then, suddenly, a little laugh, for a stupid joke that Persephone believed could offend him.

The God of the dead had to like sarcasm. Good. 

Finally, Hades found his calm demeanor. He gave her an amused glance, or a glance that Persephone interpreted as such, behind the glasses he never took off.

"In truth, Hel and I are not suited to these events. Anubis convinced us."

"I wouldn’t have thought."

Other sarcasm, another smile from him.

"But still it was a rewarding experience." He admitted. Persephone had the feeling that it was a confession far more important than it seemed, said by him.

"Even for me!" She confirmed cheerfully, happy to have given him a minimum of warmth. Because it had to be difficult, really... it had to be difficult for him to emerge from the Underworld after so long, to endure that heat and that sun, to come to speak to an audience full of terror, hate and superstition.

At that point, Hades sighed, and returned to his usual calm. He put his hands back in his pockets and allowed himself the first informal gesture, leaning a little on the counter.

He stared at her a moment, then spoke, and it seemed that this was the fulcrum of the conversation, the point he had wanted to reach since he had agreed to leave the University.

"Tomorrow there will be the closing event of the sacred week. Will thou be there?"

Persephone was stunned. What was it, a date?

She gasped for a moment, embarrassed for the umpteenth time over that day, then she was forced to shrug her shoulders.

"The charity auction? Well, actually... it seems that I didn't deserve an invitation."

She admitted it in disgust. The uselessness of her nature of very young minor Goddess followed her everywhere. It made her have paparazzi following her, but at the same time it didn't make her so important as to deserve a gala dinner. She took all the cons and not even a single pro. And she imagined how dull it must have sounded in the ears of a greater God, one of the six Cronids, one of the three kings of their Pantheon.

Oh Gods, now that she was thinking about it, he was a King... should she have called him _your majesty_? Or _thy majesty_ , or whatever? She hadn’t thought about it. It made her feel more and more like an idiot.

While she was there, with downcast eyes, mulling over her inferiority, actually on Hades' part came a surprised tone. Almost _resentful_ , even.

"What does it mean, they didn’t invite thee?"

"Oh, well... new Goddess... they don't consider me much, neither the Olympians, nor the other Pantheons."

"We have something in common, then."

But he had received the invitation. He always received them, even though he almost never took part in those events. He received them only for the pleasure of tearing them, so Persephone imagined. And if one day the other Gods allowed themselves not to invite him, he would’ve ignited a new war. To win it, get invited, and then refuse. Obvious.

"But Demeter will be there" said Hades, still skeptical, "could it be that she didn’t demand an invitation for her daughter?"

"I don't want my mother interceding for me all my life."

And this was something that Hades could understand and even respect. In fact, he nodded gravely.

"It is fair" he said, then he dared a bit more, "I don’t know if it’s appropriate on my part to give advice, but if I were thee, I would show up anyway."

"I don't think they'll let me in."

"Thou art a Goddess. They _must_ let thee in. Thou would indeed have the right to complain."

At that moment, as Persephone evaluated the possibility in her head and noticed how different their way of thinking was, they were interrupted by the sound of a cell phone. It wasn't that of the young woman, no. It was Hades’. He pulled it out of his pocket, in fact, and looked absently at the display, perhaps reading a message.

All in all, he was more modern than one might have thought.

"I’m mortified."

"You are very often, it seems."

He locked his cell phone and gave her an imperceptible grin, which to the rest of the few present had only to look like his standard expression.

"Gallantry" he explained, then he resumed with the customary pleasantries "I said, _I’m mortified_ , but work needs me. I must leave thee."

"Are you coming back... down?"

"No, I’ll work from the hotel. It's a long way to Erebus, and I have to stay until tomorrow night for the auction."

He didn't look like he was excited about it. Had it been for him, perhaps, he would’ve preferred to return to the Underworld passing through a manhole.

"I'll let you go then."

Persephone snatched her nose in the brown faux leather bag, searching for her wallet. But Hades immediately stopped her, this time visibly shocked.

"Please, allow me to pay."

"What? I’ve invited you, it’s on me."

A pause, Hades motionless staring at her.

"So thou would force me to feel mortified again, Divine Persephone."

"Why? Because I’m a woman? Hey, it's 2019!"

She smiled and tried to convey her enthusiasm, but nothing. The God remained mortally impassive.

"Allow me." He finally reiterated, and this time it sounded like a peremptory order, a definitive verdict, something that in short didn’t allow replies.

Persephone let him, thinking that, after all, an old-fashioned man can have the right to maintain those little gestures. But she wouldn't have been so condescending if she knew right away _how_ Hades intended to pay.

He put his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket, in fact, and placed a small pile of diamonds on the table, with the same indifference of a feline.

_Diamonds._

Real diamonds, small and shiny.

Persephone thanked Olympus for having already finished her coffee, or she would’ve spat it out.

"Oh Gods!" She exclaimed with wide eyes, "What are _those_?"

"Diamonds." Again, the tone he used when he felt he had to explain something obvious.

"Yes, I see! But... but for a coffee? One euro is enough, not that pile of... of... "

Hearing their speech, the bartender became interested. He came to see what was happening, then opened his eyes wide at the sight of the stones on his counter. He was thinking of a joke.

"Well... you’re paying with... those?"

"It’s enough, isn't it?" Asked Hades, honestly astonished.

The bartender had to feel cheated, because he looked at Persephone, as if to ask for confirmation that he wasn’t having a hallucination.

"We... don't accept diamonds... I think."

"Don't you accept one of the most precious materials on earth, and instead would accept a trivial piece of metal alloy?" Asked Hades, leaning over the counter, looking _offended._

The bartender had to notice the indignant tone, because he hurried to retract:

"No, I mean, yes... okay, I'll take them. But do I have to... uh... do you need the receipt? Should I... cash them in?"

The bartender, good soul, was more lost than ever. But Hades couldn't care less.

"I don't know. I have no interest in your intricate bureaucracy, mortal. If they give you so many troubles, I can take them back."

"No! No, I'll cash them somehow. Thanks!"

He hurried to collect the diamonds from the counter, accumulating them like precious crumbs in the palm of his hand. He muttered some thanks. Hades remained completely indifferent.

At that moment, Persephone wondered if he had done it to show off, and it almost bothered her. Only later she would’ve understood that no, Hades would never have boasted so blatantly in front of a human, because he wouldn’t have considered him so worthy; and he didn't even want to boast for her, because he had never thought she was so impressionable. No, Hades had paid in diamonds because in addition to God of the dead he was Pluto, God of wealth, and for him precious materials really had no value. They were abundant, he had more precious stones and metals than he could spend in all eternity, and therefore he didn’t waste time counting them, or wondering how much excessive they were compared to what he was paying.

For the richest of the Gods, paradoxically, diamonds really had the same value as crumbs.

"Thank thou for the coffee and the company, Divine Persephone" he concluded with a polite smile, "I expect to see thee at the auction tomorrow night."

Even that invitation, more than anything else, seemed like a verdict.

A verdict that Persephone was tempted to fulfill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, mortals! May your 2020 be full of diamonds! ^.^


	4. Proserpina, Goddess of flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TODAY'S GLOSSARY  
> \- Γειά σας: greek formal greeting, both for arriving and leaving, you can read it "yah-sas".  
> \- The Moirai: I know that in english they're better known as "the Fates", but since I'll use the word "fate" as "destiny" a lot, I preferred to mantain their original name and not get you confused.

The city was passing by her eyes, bright, as beautiful as only Rome by night can be. Persephone looked out the car window, nervous, bouncing her legs frantically and biting a lip. She remembered she had lipstick on, though, and tried to stop: she didn’t want to end up looking like Ledger’s Joker.

"Don’t worry, love" said Demeter, sitting next to her in the luxury electric car, "it's just a dinner, you'll do great!"

Well, it was her first official gala dinner. She had been to some event before, but never so sumptuous, and never in the spotlight. And then there was the fact that she was practically sneaking in.

She looked down, undecided, now more than ever eager for Caterina to be with her. She wanted to invite her, but it would’ve been a bad idea: unlike Persephone, Cate would _surely_ have been blocked at the entrance; and to tell the truth she herself, like any mortal, wasn’t anxious to find herself in a crowd of Gods of a thousand different Pantheons, with the constant fear of complimenting one and provoking a terrible vengeful wrath in one of their enemies.

Actually, she had quite a point.

But she had promised Persephone remote support, and that was enough for her. Then she immediately began to take advantage of it, informing her via message that she was about to arrive and was shitting herself. Answer: _if you have to go to the bathroom, say you have to powder your nose, it works in the movies._

"You still haven't told me why you changed your mind." Demeter complained suddenly, maybe trying to make her talk and relax. Too bad it wasn't the right topic to dampen the tension.

Persephone turned to her mother and smiled, as she always did when she was embarrassed.

"I didn't change my mind, I’ve always wanted to come. I just thought that I can't wait for their invitation for all eternity."

And it was true, partially. That idea wasn't really her own, but she didn't want to tell her. Not to keep secrets from her, but because if she told her about the coffee with Hades, Demeter would start listing all the faults of her male brothers, and warn her by the possibility that they would seduce her in an animal form. But Persephone felt emotionally strong enough not to yield to the advances of a swan like Leda, so she would’ve lived better without the whole lecture.

"And I approve of the decision, my love. So, keep that chin up. And don't spoil your lipstick, _Proserpina_."

"Don't call me that!" She laughed, and punched her mother playfully on the shoulder.

Demeter chuckled. She was teasing her about that fake news. Some of those journalists had mentioned her in an article, with the wrong name, and Demeter had found it hilarious.

"Why don’t you like it? It’s cute! And then you have to get used to it, having a thousand different names is part of our job, it's a sign that you're entering the circle. Consider Apollo. The only one who kept the Greek name and, in any case, he has twenty other titles. The more mortals love you, the more they give you nicknames. Accept them and feed them, don't be too strict."

Persephone watched her mother and admired her. She loved everything about her: she was so sure of herself, so on good terms with humanity, so beautiful in her rosy complexion, her wheat-colored hair and her dress of that evening, white and gold, in classic style. But above all, she loved her because she was so affectionate. It wasn’t common among the Gods to have a good relationship between parents and children, and Demeter had always been the best mother Persephone could wish for. Apprehensive, anxious, protective, a big pain in the ass sometimes, as perhaps all the mothers were. But never, never once had she put Persephone in the position of doubting her love.

"Thanks Mom. I mean, for everything. Also for letting me come with you and... for the dress."

Demeter smiled and reached out to give her one of her powerful caresses.

"You're beautiful, Kore. I'm proud of you."

The car pulled up in line with the red carpet: an artificial path leading into the hotel, with the hall that had been designated for the event. When it was time to get out, Persephone lost a beat. A few steps separated her from the building, but, she knew, they would’ve felt like miles. Left and right, fans and photographers, who were crowding against the barriers protected by security agents.

"Ready? Take a deep breath!" Demeter urged her, and then opened the car door.

The great Goddess of the harvest was good at making mortals love her. Just outside, in fact, she widened a smile so broad and sincere that she seemed to carry with her all the warmth of the Mediterranean summer. She greeted everyone, enjoying the applause, and Persephone almost felt guilty for having to get out of the car and take part of the attentions, which Demeter managed so well on her own.

She put down one foot, with the golden diamanté shoe, and was immediately assaulted by a flash storm. She pulled herself on her feet and tried to remember to smile, to greet, to stand up straight, to walk elegantly, to hold the golden purse without crushing it and not to stumble over the edge of her long gown. Doing all the things together seemed much, much worse than facing the criminal law university exam.

"Proserpina!” Cried someone.

She smiled, reluctantly.

"It’s _Persephone_." She tried to inform the crowd, but she wasn’t sure they could hear her, because the noise was too much. There were also screaming girls somewhere.

She hurried after her mother, as she had been advised. She never approached the barriers, as she had been imposed. She didn’t grant autographs (and fortunately, because she would’ve been in doubt on what name to sign), and then simply walked towards the entrance.

As expected, those few seconds seemed like hours. When she started to climb the steps, she swore that those would be her end: she was sure she would stumble, giving all journalists the chance to place Divine Proserpina’s ass in the air on the front page of their tabloids. But she didn’t fall, she came to the big porch of the luxury hotel, then the hallway, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Her mother gave her an encouraging look, complimenting silently, and together they headed for the valet who was welcoming the Gods to the event. Demeter entered first, without introducing her daughter, because the two had agreed so. Persephone wanted to do it on her own.

She approached, in fact, and tried to keep her head up, to look like someone who knew what she was doing. 

"Good evening, Divine. Excuse me, but I never had the pleasure of knowing you. What’s your name?"

The guy was embarrassed. Poor thing. Certainly he hadn’t considered the possibility of not recognizing someone at that dinner. Persephone felt sorry for him as well as for herself.

"Persephone, Goddess of flowering and spring."

The boy frowned and looked down to scroll through the list.

"Oh, I can save you the trouble, I'm not there. Between us, I’m very unhappy about not having received an invitation."

She wasn’t that unhappy, but she had to complain, so she did. The young man now was staring at her as one stares at an impostor.

"Excuse me, but I can't let in who isn’t on the list. This event is for deities only, and you don't..."

He was implying that Persephone didn’t look like a Goddess at all, and she herself agreed, couldn’t blame him. Then she smiled and, for the first time in her life, she used her powers for something other than home gardening: she stretched her hand out to him, opened her palm, and within seconds a floating bud was born. This opened, freed the petals, became a white rose under the incredulous eyes of the valet.

Once it was fully flowered, Persephone took the rose in her fingers and offered it to him. He took it, bewitched.

"As I said, Persephone, Goddess of flowering and spring."

She imposed herself, but she did it with a smile, because she knew that it wasn’t the poor man's fault. Moreover, he must’ve been her same age. 

"Please come in."

He admitted her inside and Persephone walked calmly, simulating a confidence she didn't have, trying not to laugh because of her usual embarrassment.

That was undoubtedly the most luxurious place that Persephone had ever visited, so much so that she wondered if indeed Olympus could be better.

Everything was golden. The lights, the walls, the large chandeliers, the stair knobs, the door handles, and every single decoration of the round tables set up for the occasion. Even ambient music sounded celestial. And the guests? Oh, Gods, literally. They were all _fantastic._

There were of many Pantheons, but most of those present were either Classic or Nordic. Persephone sighted Apollo, dressed in a light tuxedo, with long hair shining with a golden sheen. She saw Eros, dressed in pink, with feathered wings folded behind his back. She saw Skadi, adorned with furs, then the dark Morrigan, with a large black dress and raven feathers crowning her hairstyle. She saw the most magnificent of all, Hera, blonde, very tall, decorated with gold from head to toe, smoking from a cigarette tightened in a cigarette holder. She saw Zeus with his white beard, she saw Odin with his only eye. She saw Anubis, not much different from how she had seen him at the conference, talking to Osiris, with his green skin. She saw a native American wolf God, dressed in wooden pearls and bird feathers. She saw Kali, with her countless arms decorated with henna tattoos and dressed in a red sari, whose band over her shoulders trailed across the floor. Everyone was there... everyone was really there, and Persephone felt almost like fainting.

"Oh, Gods..." she let out a hiss, enchanted and struck. She couldn’t even decide what or who to lay her eyes on, because luxury was such, the variety was such, that there was too much information to bear for a single brain.

But Demeter didn’t allow her to be intimidated and forcibly introduced her, starting with the simplest. She introduced her to the virgin Hestia first, the most sober in there, without jewelry, no décolleté. Then she switched to some God from other Pantheons, then returned to the Classics.

Persephone felt she couldn’t even remember a name. She knew them, yet she couldn't record what was happening around her, because it was all _too much._ On some occasions she even had the feeling of looking rude, because she had nothing to say interesting, she could do nothing but let herself be tossed from side to side.

For the first time, she wondered if getting into that world had been the right choice.

Demeter had had a way of entering the scene, which was more or less the same of everyone else: getting out of the car, catwalk, smiles, greeting. Good.

Hades was the exact opposite.

Persephone saw him arrive a few minutes after her, watching him from the huge windows of the salon: he got out of the car too dry, fast. He didn't turn to anyone, didn't raise a hand in a gesture of greeting, not even by mistake. He didn't change his expression in any way, and in two hasty steps he was inside. Persephone understood why it was so difficult to take pictures of him.

Once in the hall, Hades roughly stepped over the valet to head into the hall: he didn't wait for him to check his name on the list because he knew he didn't need it. So dark, tall, the black tuxedo, the bow tie and those glasses that he still insisted on wearing, out of tune with the setting.

Around him, no one greeted him first. It was a common habit, evidently not only by mortals, to give him the back when he appeared in a room. Everyone respected him, that was for sure: they did so because most of them were inferior to the Inexorable. But on the other hand, he seemed completely indifferent to that fearful deference, because he remained motionless, standing, turning his head to check those present. Persephone felt he wanted to leave as soon as possible.

The young Goddess turned and noticed that Demeter, one step away from her just a second ago, had moved away to talk to Zeus and Hera, her siblings, and they were all three entertaining a quiet conversation, enjoying champagne glasses. Persephone looked at them, undecided whether to go to them, then turned her head back to Hades, alone, in a bad mood. She decided that , if there was anyone who needed companionship, for sure that someone was him.

She gathered courage and approached, sneaking among so many Gods taller than her. She had to bend under the big white wings of Eros to get to her destination, and finally he saw her: he turned his head towards her, spread a slight smile. He approached until he met her, looking down.

" _Γειά_ _σας_ " he greeted, in Greek, as per tradition, "thou managed to sneak in, I see. Good to know."

He took her hand, holding it high, and bowing until he touched it with his lips. Persephone shivered because of the cold that his skin emanated, and it made her laugh out of embarrassment when goose bumps appeared on her bare arm.

" _Γειά_ _σας_. You instead didn’t manage to come in from the back door, I see."

He chuckled softly, so that only she could hear him. Then he straightened up and regained his eternal neutrality.

"Yes, it seems that the red carpet was mandatory. I hope at least that I have made it useless to journalists."

And Persephone didn’t doubt he had put all the effort into it. Perhaps, if it had been for him, he really would’ve entered from a secondary entrance only to not bear all the attentions of those _living being._

"You still wear glasses?" Persephone asked, hoping he would take them off, show himself. She was sure he should be less indecipherable with his face completely free.

"I beg pardon, but it’s necessary."

"It's night."

"A bright night."

Persephone laughed, with the distinct feeling that he was making fun of her. She didn’t insist, however. Instead she cast a glance behind her shoulders: she saw her mother far away, still busy talking to Zeus and Hera, unaware of her daughter absence.

Then, while Persephone was still turned, the voice of the God of the dead, deep and implacable:

"Thou are very elegant tonight. Gorgeous attire."

The compliment came cold, and to be honest it didn't even sounded like a compliment. It sounded more like a description, a fact. As if he were saying the pure truth, not something he thought.

But anyway, she was flattered. She felt beautiful that night. She loved the updo hairstyle, decorated with her usual crown of flowers, this time in the form of small white roses. She loved the white tunic, in classic style, and the light golden veil that covered her shoulders, adorned with small fringes on the edge. Above all, however, she loved the belt and the necklace, which represented laurel leaves and showed off waist and neckline. She had never dressed so well in her life.

"I’m closer to your level, your majesty." The Goddess joked, to play down.

"If thou art talking about beauty, no, thou art well beyond my level. If thou art talking about height, I'm sorry, but thou should choose higher heels."

This time Persephone was unable to hold back a loud laugh. She had promised herself to behave according to modest etiquette, divine elegance, and instead she had arrived ten minutes ago and was already laughing.

She played the game: she raised her skirt a little, to show him her shoes.

"These are fifteen centimeters already" she admitted, "more than that, they’re called stilts."

He too was amused, even though he was definitely better at not showing it.

"I appreciate thine effort."

"Don't boast too much. The view is better than you think from down here."

Persephone laughed again and thought how paradoxically it was easy to talk to Hades. She couldn't have said why. Perhaps because he was an excellent listener, he left ample room for his interlocutors. Or perhaps because he had shown appreciation for irony, so important to her. Whatever the reason, however, Persephone found it cathartic.

She checked her mother again, fast, and she still hadn't noticed anything. But she knew she couldn’t escape all evening, so she tried to behave and face it like the mature Goddess she wanted to be.

"Do you want to join them? We can't isolate ourselves here in the lobby all evening, I'm afraid."

As soon as she proposed it, Hades released an imperceptible sigh. He also looked towards his brother and sisters. He was neutral, as usual. An outsider wouldn’t have known if he was enthusiastic, indifferent or annoyed, but Persephone had the feeling that he would’ve gladly avoided socializing. However, he also knew that he couldn’t stay there, so he consented with a nod.

Persephone had already had an idea of Zeus and Hera: the first one was excessive in everything, the second one very snobbish and always angry. When they reached them, in fact, she noticed that the supreme Father of the Gods was laughing rudely, almost spilling his champagne at the sight of a Goddess from another Pantheon, whose lower back was in his opinion too visible. His wife and sister, on the other hand, had an eyebrow raised in an eternal frown of supreme disgust, and was silently smoking from the golden cigarette holder. Demeter was trying to quell the hormones of Zeus, unsuccessfully.

What Demeter couldn’t do in words, however, certainly did Hades with his mere presence, because he made the whole group freeze. Zeus stopped, leaving the sight of the body of the Goddess, and turned towards him.

"Brother!" He welcomed him with his arms wide open, with a fake smile, impossible not to notice, even behind his well-groomed white beard.

"Zeus." Hades greeted him, in the deadliest tone Persephone had heard from him so far. She had believed there was a limit to the cold neutrality he could show, and instead he always found the way to make matters worse.

Zeus slapped him on the back and Hades remained motionless, impassive. He didn’t return the courtesy in any way, even though he bowed his head slightly towards Hera and Demeter, out of politeness.

At that moment Demeter shot a glance at her daughter, realizing that she had arrived with Hades. But she didn’t complain in front of her brothers and remained silent. Persephone was grateful, because at that time she was already quite embarrassed: amid four of the six Cronids, all top notch, she was feeling more than ever like a dwarf. A bug. Something they could have crushed even just with their intrusive personality.

"We don't often see you among us, Hades. What prompted you to emerge and make us the gift of your presence?” Insinuated Hera with an acid, unpleasant tone.

"Business."

Everyone had the reaction to wait for more information, but nothing came from him. If he had decided to answer with one word, that word must have been enough.

But Hera didn't like being treated sufficiently, so she insisted:

"Business at a party?"

"I donated a diamond for the auction, I would like to know the final price."

"Well, so you really don’t care about us?"

Demeter opened her eyes wide, directing a shocked look at her sister. And that was saying, because even she wasn’t so inclined to stand for the God of the Underworld.

But Hades remained impassive, didn’t got angry or compassionate.

"I’m mortified to have offended you, sister."

Just a formal apology, and Hera noticed it: she expired an angry gust of smoke and, in disregard of the etiquette, went away, followed by the trail of her tobacco.

Zeus disapproved of his wife's behavior, shaking his head in an exaggerated manner.

"Women!" He complained, without any care of having two just there, "You're lucky, Hades, not to have a wife."

Hades said nothing, remained silent, didn’t confirm or counterattack. Zeus, evidently feeling obliged to fill the void, resumed with his aphorisms:

"Oh, but I see you come with a nymphet! New concubine? Good for you."

"That's _my daughter_ , Zeus!" Demeter glared at him, furious, her yellow eyes almost sparkling with rage.

"Er... nice to meet you... Persephone, Goddess of flowering."

"Oh! Well, that’s odd! She’s short to be the daughter of a Cronid, isn’t she?"

At that point, the cold looks on Zeus were three, by all those present. But he wasn’t the kind of personality to notice it and, if he took his leave, he did it only to go and flirt with a Norse Goddess, without any regard for the presence of Hera.

When they took their seats for dinner and the subsequent auction, Persephone ended up next to Demeter and Hestia, crushed by their heights. Opposite at the same table there were Apollo, Eros, the half-naked Aphrodite, incarnation of the same perfect beauty of the arts that depicted her. But Persephone couldn’t talk to anyone, because they were all so caught up in their chatter, all so eager to gossip about things she knew nothing about, that she never managed to get in the speech.

She stayed silent eating, therefore, choosing vegetarian dishes. She wasn’t satisfied: they were tiny luxury portions of low-nutrient foods. There was avocado everywhere, and Persephone hated avocado.

In short, no, she didn't enjoy herself at all. She was disappointed. She had imagined that evening very differently. She had expected to arouse some reaction, perhaps even astonishment, but still to be worth _something._ Instead nobody spoke to her, not even for the curiosity to know who she was. They were all busy, engaged in their gossip, in their family dramas. Persephone herself had believed she was better at getting in, more able to catch their attention, and instead nothing.

Maybe she was just distracted.

Although she would’ve preferred not to admit it, in fact, she was thinking too much about the God of the Underworld. She hadn’t thought she had been so impressed, but in truth he was the only one who seemed as out of place as she was. 

He wasn't sitting with them. He was right behind her, at another of the large round tables, along with Hecate, Anubis, and the three Moirai, dressed in black and white dresses. Hades and Persephone were back to back and didn’t look at each other for the duration of the dinner.

It was Persephone, who after an hour of total silence was getting bored, to turn in her chair and peer at him.

She pursed her lips, undecided whether to disturb him. But she noticed he was as silent as she was, and even before she hadn’t heard him open his mouth, so she reached out and called him.

He turned, vaguely surprised.

"How boring, eh?" She joked, hoping he didn't consider her a stupid, young, useless, intrusive Goddess.

But he gave no sign of being bothered, indeed. He turned a little more and spoke softly.

"These events are always boring."

"I think I understand why you never want to participate. Will it last long?"

"It could last all night, I'm afraid for us."

Persephone wrinkled her nose, leaned her chin on the back of the chair. She looked at his profile, now so close, and was bewitched by the aquiline nose. It certainly made him special.

"You don't have to prove anything to anyone, you could slip away."

"I have reasons to stay."

"Oh, yeah, the diamond."

The shadow of a smile on his thin lips.

"Can I make a confession?"

Persephone nodded curiously, the flowers in her hair revitalized.

"If I had noticed thou hadn’t come, I would have left immediately."

Persephone didn’t know how to interpret those words. They were explicit and immediately she felt blushing on her cheeks, sensing that the roses on her head had turned red and she could do nothing to hide her embarrassment. At the same time, however, it was difficult to understand how sincere Hades was.

Not that he was lying, of course. But he had the ability to make everything sound as obvious, a fact, up to the point of giving the feeling that he said certain things only for mere and disinterested courtesy.

But maybe not, maybe he wasn't as disinterested as he wanted to appear. This was demonstrated by the fact that he was always courteous, but he hadn’t spoken a word to anyone, and certainly he hadn’t lavished on compliments to any other Goddess, unlike Zeus. Indeed, Persephone had even understood how stoic his ability to be completely silent was. With her during the conference and the coffee he had even been _talkative_ , because that evening he had shown that his nature was to say absolutely nothing.

Just as she was immersed in her embarrassment, Persephone was saved by Zeus, who took the podium to announce the beginning of the charity auction. Then they all remained silent and she could sit down again to listen.

The speech was very heartfelt, at least as much as it was false. Persephone could hear it in every syllable. Maybe she was a useless Goddess of flowering, but she had a good intuition for feelings and lies, and she felt in every fiber of the body that at that moment Zeus didn't really care about children starving in Africa, nor about water wells, nor about schools, nor about the campaign against female mutilation. But she didn't complain, because after all the fundraising would do what his hypocritical words couldn't.

As soon as he finished, the auction started. The Gods had given everything, especially sacred relics, which were exchanged among themselves for the sake of symbolism. It was just another way to make money flow. There were the most disparate objects: a Ming vase, an ancient representation of Thor's hammer on a stone, a statuette of Athena Parthenos emerged from some excavations in Mycenae. And finally, Hades’ moment came.

Hades had no relics because no one prayed to him. There were no temples in his honor, they had never existed. His statues, his icons, nothing existed. There was nothing that was dedicated to the God of the dead, in all of human history. But this hadn’t prevented him from participating with one of the most precious objects: a truly enormous diamond.

Zeus showed it with admiration: it was in a display case, resting on a blue velvet cushion. Regular, shiny, could’ve been seen from miles away. It was transparent and of a slight bluish color. Perfect in its iridescent facets.

Zeus supervised the auction for that and, given that Gods really liked diamonds, the price rose in a matter of seconds. Eventually it was awarded by an African God who Persephone didn’t know, for a price that she could hardly repeat in words. Maybe she wouldn't be able to write it, because of the amount of numbers it required. And she could almost faint at the thought that it was only a small fraction of Hades’ wealth.

As he had done with all the other donors, Zeus called Hades on stage, and so he was forced to stand up and head towards the podium with a dark look.

Once arrived, the light was all on the two brothers, one next to the other. One dressed in white and the other in black, one with beard and the other without, one cheerful and expansive, the other with a funereal attitude. They looked like two archetypes of themselves.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Hades, God of death."

"God _of the dead_ , please."

"Oh, sorry. So, big brother! Still with those glasses, eh? Light is bad, isn’t it?"

Zeus knew how to be hateful, but everyone felt obliged to laugh, because one cannot but laugh at the jokes of one of the Fathers of the Gods.

Hades was a wax statue. He didn't answer and Zeus continued.

"Anyway, we would like to thank you for your contribution. We know it’s not frequent, so we appreciate it twice."

"This sounds more like a reproach."

"Oh, big brother, how touchy you are!" other audience laughter, "No, no, I was sincere. Thanks for your _massive_ diamond. I hope you don't need it to compensate for some lack, eh?"

Laughter again, and Persephone began to experience that kind of passive, second-hand embarrassment, that one feels for others rather than oneself. And she didn't feel it for Hades, no. She felt it for Zeus's stupid jokes.

Maybe she shouldn't have thought of those things, but she couldn't stand it. She glanced at Demeter and read in her eyes that she was thinking the same, but didn’t dare say anything.

Hades, wrapped in adamant pride, didn’t respond to the provocation: it was too _low grade_ for someone like him. He didn't even take it into consideration, he acted as if he hadn't heard it, or it wasn’t even expressed. Persephone admired his composure because she would’ve exploded.

"So, tell us, did you come here with someone? One of your succubi?"

"There are no succubi in my afterlife. You should ask Lucifer."

"Are there women, at least, in your afterlife?"

"Yes. All those who run away from you."

The audience laughed, Zeus himself laughed, and no one understood that is wasn’t a joke at all.

"Come on, don't be shy. I saw that you have given a lot of attention to our new Goddess, Pers... Persephatta?"

" _Persephone_." Hades corrected him, terrifying, now with an imperceptible tic in his nose, which betrayed his annoyance. Persephone was grateful. She was grateful that he used her real name, because apparently it wasn't so obvious that evening.

"Persephone, yes. Goddess of flowers."

"Of _flowering._ "

"And what's the difference?"

"The same as between God of death and God of the dead."

Again, the audience laughed, not realizing how great Hades' annoyance was. He hid it well, that was why. But Persephone could almost see it, all around him, in an aura of gray discomfort. She was thankful that he was taking the trouble to point out all those things about her, she felt defended: at least he had listened to her the day before, when she had introduced herself. On the contrary, she had met Zeus just an hour ago, and he had already forgotten about her.

Then, treacherously, Zeus who had the worst idea of the evening:

"Persephone? Divine Persephone, stand up! Show yourself, please!"

Persephone widened her eyes and swallowed. She looked at her mother and saw that she was urging her to obey with a gesture of her head. She felt in mortal embarrassment, her legs weak. Once again, she was surprised: she usually liked to be sociable, to be considered, but _not like this._ Not to be a victim of the jokes of a Father of the Gods she couldn't answer, due to the hierarchy.

She stood up, spread a tight smile. She felt the flowers on her head closing, intimidated, becoming small buds.

"So, beautiful Persephone, it seems that you have attracted my brother's interest! What did you do to him?"

Persephone looked around a little, tried to keep her smile.

"Ahm... I... just asked a question at his lecture."

Everyone laughed. Again. But why? What was funny? It wasn't a fucking joke. What kind of sick humor did they have?

"Are you sure there wasn’t an arrow involved?"

At that point, Eros intervened, from the audience.

"Hey, Zeus! I swear I didn't shoot him! I’d never condemn a woman to such a misfortune! Persephone, it's not my fault!"

Persephone felt almost the urge to throw up, while the rest of the audience laughed. She glanced at Hades, but saw him stoic. Damn glasses. Now more than ever she wanted to see him, ask him what she had to do to free them both from that situation.

"So, no Eros’ arrow, apparently" resumed Zeus, "then it must be natural affinity. Hades only had eyes for you."

At that point, Hades approached and almost tore off the microphone: the first vaguely impulsive gesture Persephone saw him do, to put an end to that mockery.

"At least my eyes are just for one."

And everyone sensed that it wasn’t a joke, because for a moment there was silence. Everyone knew Zeus adulterous habits very well, and now those present behaved as if it were a matter of seconds before Hera got mad. Maybe, actually, they were excited at the idea, to have their evening gossip.

But nothing of what was feared happened: Hades, in fact, completely regaining his neutral charm, took the microphone and forcibly abandoned the speech.

"Thank you for having participated at the auction for my diamond. I’m sure that the neediest populations will benefit from your generosity. I wish you good night."

And, without waiting for Zeus’ permission, he got off the stage, too quickly.

Zeus took the microphone back and started talking again, making jokes, making the audience laugh, while Hades walked away in great strides.

He came towards the table in a hurry, direct, without the slightest deviation. He nodded to Anubis, then put his chair in place. Persephone, now sitting down, looked at him with wide eyes, wondering if he was leaving.

He confirmed shortly thereafter. He turned in her direction, in fact, and bent over her to talk to her more privately. His voice reached her ear like the breeze of a winter sea.

"I’m mortified, Persephone. My presence here does not help thy debut. _Γειά_ _σας_."

He didn't even give her time to reply. He glanced at Demeter and seemed to apologize silently with her too. Then he straightened up, rose in all his exaggerated height and disappeared, as he had arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... Zeus is just the little brother we don't need and don't deserve, isn't he? xD


	5. The neutrality of Law

He was leaving.

Like that. Alone.

Persephone felt a sensation of injustice in her stomach, mixed with hatred against Zeus, and telling the truth of everyone else there. Including herself, who perhaps could’ve played her cards better, avoiding embarrassment to both of them. 

She turned abruptly towards her mother, while Zeus continued undaunted with the the auction.

"I must stop him."

Demeter pursed her lips and made no secret of her disapproval.

"No. Stay here."

"They disrespected him! And they disrespected me."

Perhaps some of those close to them had heard it, but Persephone didn’t care. She had never felt so humiliated in her life.

But Demeter seemed immovable. In that respect, she was a Cronid in every way.

"No. Let him go."

But Persephone didn't care. She was young to be a Goddess perhaps, but biologically she was no longer a child. She would make her decisions.

She stood up, shaking her head. She started to leave, but she felt Demeter grab her by the arm. They looked at each other, both nervous.

"Don't underestimate him. It was his choice to let them treat him like that."

Persephone lowered a little, speaking in her ear in a low voice so as not to feed the scandal.

"He let them treat him like that because reacting was useless, everyone was mocking him!"

"He's not a kitten, Kore. He’s an almighty king. If he wanted, he could raze this place. Don't think he needs your protection."

"I'm not stupid, Mom! I don't want to offer him protection, I just want to be _kind_. Try it yourself, every now and then."

Persephone regained possession of her arm forcefully, removing it from Demeter’s grip. And at that point her mother hissed the last warning, almost barking behind her clenched teeth, her neck tendons all tense.

"He'll use you. He’ll take advantage of you, devour you and then spit out your bones. Remember that."

But Persephone shook her head slowly. Hades wasn’t like that, she was sure of it.

It wasn’t a pure spirit of rebellion, really. It was because she _could feel_ something. Empathy, the one that many of the other Gods usually ignored, including Demeter. And she also knew that her mother used to paint her brothers always with excessive severity. The image that came out of it certainly suited Zeus, perhaps even Poseidon, but regarding Hades it wasn’t justified in any way. He had never emerged from the Underworld to rape virgins. He had never turned into an animal to seduce someone. He had never done _anything._ His passivity must have led Demeter to equate him by extension with the other two male Cronids. But Persephone, on her side, didn’t see why the concept of _innocent until proven guilty_ shouldn’t apply to him.

Persephone lowered her tone, tried to calmly express all her conviction. She hit a nerve and didn’t regret it.

"He saved your life, Mom. Is this worth nothing?"

Demeter petrified, softened the inclination of her eyebrows. She remained rigid for a moment that seemed infinite, then exhaled nervously.

"Keep your cell phone with you."

And she let her go, without another word.

She had to run to catch up, and even so until the last she didn't think she was still in time. She rushed into the corridor, now deserted, and turned quickly towards the exit.

"I'm sorry!" She exploded loudly.

Hades, who was just about to push the huge glass door, froze. He stayed straight, motionless, turning three quarters. Impassive as usual.

"For what?" He asked, with only a faint hint of incredulity.

"For what they said." Persephone explained, approaching calmly now, for fear of falling from her high heels. She wasn’t used to wearing them.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Thou art not the one who should apologize."

"Yes, I should. I’ve insisted on staying around you since you entered. Zeus just seize the opportunity, I'm sorry."

She reached him and saw that he was calm. As usual, of course, but not only impassive or neutral. He was genuinely calm. He didn’t seem at all touched.

"Thou were very sweet, Divine. I don’t care about Zeus."

And with those simple words, Persephone knew that he _really_ didn't care. He hadn't reacted because to him it wasn’t important. He wasn't even offended. His composure was so unbounded, his pride so great, that in his eyes not even the Father of Gods' jokes could be worth anything.

"Well, thank Olympus. I thought you were angry."

But he shook his head, also because, as Persephone would soon learn, Hades was _never_ angry. He was the Inexorable, he had the same composed patience of death. He was unavoidable, but never resentful. Just one time she managed to see him really infuriated, and it certainly wasn't that night.

"My brother can mock me all he wants, but this will never change the fact that _I_ am the eldest, and _I_ am the one who’s going to win our game."

"What game?"

But he didn’t tell her and Persephone didn’t try to insist, because by now she knew that when Hades gave an answer, even a mute one, it must be sufficient. In fact, when he spoke, he changed the subject.

"More than anything else, I was worried about thy reputation. Thou should go back inside."

"I swear, if I hear just another joke from Zeus I’ll throw up in the caviar."

This made him genuinely laugh. Persephone noticed his bushy eyebrows behind his glasses rising with respect for the audacity of the statement.

He tried to insist:

"The less thou stay with them, the more thou will be considered the black sheep. Do not be like me. Thou have all the potential to become one of the most beloved deities."

But Persephone remained there stoic, she shook her head, the flowers that adorned her hair now wide and well-bloomed.

"I can't have fun at parties, if I know someone is leaving unhappy."

"Thou want to make everyone happy. Terrible attitude."

For the first time it sounded like a reproach, but to Persephone it didn't matter. It was her character. Neither he nor Demeter could understand her, perhaps, but they certainly had no right to judge her.

"I just want to make happy those who need it."

Perhaps she had dared too much with that statement. In fact, Hades spread a grin, bent a little, to talk to her closer to her face. Now Persephone could almost feel the chill emanating from his too pale complexion. She could see something behind the dark glasses: two eyes even darker.

"What makes thou think I need to be happy?"

Persephone broadened a wider smile. She tried not to give in to embarrassment: she held her gaze. She raised a hand and created a flower, a white narcissus that blossomed between her fingers with a broad and healthy corolla. With tight lips she slipped it into his breast pocket, which he hadn't bothered to decorate either with a handkerchief or a buttonhole flower.

"I’m sorry. I must have had an _erroneous_ impression from your gravedigger suit."

Hades giggled softly, deeply. He really seemed to encompass all the essence and power of the foundations of the earth.

"Thou should learn the art of diplomacy, let me tell thee."

"And you that of suit up, so I think we’re even."

He straightened up, still with that grin on his face. He could disguise everything, but not the fact that he liked their conversations.

"That’s fair" he finally stated, giving in, "now that we have drawn up an outline of all our flaws, I would say we can move on to the next level. Therefore, if thou really don't want to go back inside, may I invite thee for a walk?"

Persephone was surprised by him being so direct. Of course, he always was, but sometimes it surprised her. He was a brutally honest man, always telling the truth. He didn’t hide _at all_ that he had an interest in Persephone. And she, for her part, appreciated it, because she preferred honesty over concealing disinterest. And he was good at both of those activities, so until the last moment she hadn't been sure how to interpret his behavior.

She glanced back, thinking of her mother. But he had to sense the concern, because he hurried to add:

"I will take thee home before my sister can get the wrong idea. Between us, I fear the anger of Demeter more than that of Zeus."

Persephone smiled and agreed in considering her mother terrifying, when she got angry. Then she pursed her lips, undecided, and became convinced. She sent a message to Demeter and Caterina, informing them that she was leaving.

Getting out of the hotel was simple, much more than entering. By that time, all the fans who had previously crowded the entrance had dissipated, and there was no one left to block or photograph them. They walked again on that red carpet, and suddenly it was nothing luxurious, it seemed just a trivial rug.

Hades made a brief phone call, informing his chauffeur he was leaving. Then, without waiting for him, he ended the call and invited Persephone to walk on the sidewalk with a gallant hand gesture. When he was beside her, he offered her his elbow, which was a little too high for her. 

Such old-fashioned.

"So where are we going?" Asked the Goddess, sighing cheerfully, enjoying the still warm climate of late September.

"Thou art the city expert. What would thou like to do?"

Persephone thought for a moment and realized she was still hungry as hell, since she had eaten almost nothing of those tiny, luxury portions contaminated of avocado.

"Um, actually, I’d like a gelato. Do the Gods of the Underworld eat it?"

"I must admit I don't eat often."

Persephone frowned, gave him a significant look.

"Oh, you’re one of _those_?"

She was referring to the Gods who didn’t indulge in human pleasures. For the most rigorous of them, food, sleep, even breathing sometimes, were considered non-essential elements of divine existence and indeed deleterious to their status.

Hades immediately understood what she was referring to. He said what sounded to be a justification only in meaning, because his tone was devoid of interest or guilt.

"Reigning in Erebus requires a significant effort; if I have no guests I miss the initiative to _do anything else_."

"Well, now it's like you have a guest."

"Indeed. I like gelato. It’s fine."

He expressed that opinion in such a mechanical and unnatural way that Persephone found it quite funny. It wasn’t easy for him to express such an illogical personal opinion. As Persephone would learn in the future, the reason behind his neutrality was that there were no objective reasons in expressing a taste. There is no certain proof of why he liked a food, or an activity, or a woman, and therefore Hades preferred never to say too much. Even when he had his opinions, and very clear in his mind.

At the time, however, the Goddess merely giggled, squeezing the hollow of his elbow and holding herself up, since the heels were starting to hurt. She said the first line that came to mind to put him at ease.

"It's cold in Erebus, isn't it? You should re-evaluate your business, my King. You could make a huge, immense underground gelato shop. You could eat more, and mortals would fight to come to your Underworld."

"Anubis would never forgive me."

Persephone laughed again, shook her head, feeling her little roses in her hair be lively, orange. She knew it because she knew them, she understood her flowers. Every time, she hoped that others didn't know them as well as to interpret her every emotion.

Finally, they went to an open shop across the street. Then they decided to cross the avenue, Persephone paying attention not to stumble on the cobblestones and on the web of tram tracks. When they were on the opposite sidewalk, the Goddess noticed that Hades gracefully passed behind her and changed side, moving outwards and leaving her on the side of the wall.

 _Extremely_ old-fashioned.

They entered the shop, in a small, white and bright room, which annoyed Hades, considering how he wrinkled his nose. Persephone rushed to the counter to make her order.

They were lucky: it was a gelateria with very varied and unusual flavors.

"Oh, there's pomegranate! I love pomegranate!” exploded Persephone, scrolling the menu on the wall.

"Hellish fruit, Divine Persephone. Bold choice."

She looked at him, and swore he was winking behind those damned sunglasses.

"I’m bold in everything I do, my King."

She didn't know how inappropriate it could sound to him, but she didn't care too much, she enjoyed making him hypothesize. Then she ordered a cone, and waited for him: he chose star anise flavor.

When it was time to pay, however, Persephone imposed herself. He raised a hand to him, both gracefully and in a fake snob manner, to tease him.

"No, no, you won't fool me twice, your majesty. This time it’s on me. And I’m not admitting replies."

"What if I said that I want to pay as well, and in the same way I do not admit replies?"

"We would be in a stalemate. But I know that a gallant man like you would never impose himself on a lady. So? Which rule of etiquette prevails? Offering or not overpowering me?"

Persephone saw him frown, in an expression that could even be legitimately doubtful. He remained still, his mouth tight and his brow furrowed, and Persephone realized that it was his way of thinking, of examining a problem. Finally, after he had taken his time, he gave the verdict:

"Thou can pay, just this time. As long as thou promise me to accept a gift."

This time it was Persephone who frowned, confused and amazed, the little roses in her hair more open and curious than ever.

"A gift? What?"

"Not here, not now. Just, promise me to accept it when it’s time. Because Ialready _know_ thou will complain."

"Do you foresee the future, by chance?"

"No, that's not my power."

"And what’s your power, then?"

She saw him widen a smile, proud of himself. A pleased smile, which certainly hid some kind of rip-off.

" _Certainty_."

When they left, they resumed walking, Hades always careful to stand on the outer side of the sidewalk. They ate while Rome was surrounding them, unrolling in its streets, in its alleys, in its bridges over the river Tiber, illuminated by yellow lamps.

At one point, Persephone noticed that a black car was following them, at a safe distance. She was alarmed for a moment, but Hades reassured her, telling her that it was his chauffeur, Ascalaphus. He would take them home when they got tired.

Meanwhile, the two talked about this and that. Above all, _Persephone_ talked. Hades was very quiet, but as the Goddess had noticed the day before, his was never an embarrassed kind of silence. It was a listener's silence. He seemed that he could never get tired of hearing her talk, even of nonsense. When a subject interested him in a particular way, he raised his eyebrows a little, grinning lightly, from time to time shyly murmuring something.

Only at a certain point he introduced a topic of his own, after a brief pause. Persephone heard him sigh, as he widened his shirt collar and tidied up his black curls.

"Divine Persephone, may I ask thee a question?"

Persephone, still holding him by the elbow, shrugged and spread a smile.

"How can I refuse a King to ask questions? Please, I’m all ears."

Hades sighed again and the Goddess felt he was looking for the right words, perhaps for a delicate subject.

"I’d just like to know what thou were doing in that university."

"In _La Sapienza_? Well, I study there."

No reaction. A moment of silence, then he insisted, with his usual voice from the depths of the earth.

"May I ask thee why?"

"Because I’m interested in Law."

"Why among humans, I meant."

Persephone shrugged again.

"I've always lived among humans, it doesn't bother me. Indeed, I believe I’m much better as a human than as a Goddess."

Hades, who until then had walked calmly beside her, stopped, so suddenly that he seemed an electric train blocked by a sudden power failure.

He looked down at her. Severe.

"Thou shouldn’t say this."

"It wasn't to belittle myself. I don't see anything wrong with humans, I'm fine among them."

But Hades still didn't understand. He tilted his head, as if he wanted to study her from various perspectives and none of them satisfied him.

"But thou have a huge potential, a written destiny. Goddess of flowering, of spring, of all that humans consider beautiful and vital. They would love thee unconditionally. So why art thou following such a different path? Why aren't thou following Demeter?"

He had spoken in the most sincerely intrigued tone that Persephone had ever heard on both human and divine lips. She had to think for a moment about the answer, because actually it wasn’t so simple to explain: it was a mix of many reasons.

"Ah, the reality is that... flowers can grow by their own, your majesty. Millennia without me, and the world had its springs anyway, because my mother was there. She can do everything, I'm just a specification of her power. Unfortunately, what I can do isn’t fundamental. And it's not... it's not even what interests me. On the one hand, I’d like to be just a Goddess acclaimed and loved by everyone, but... I still think I’d almost certainly be a mediocre Goddess, compared to the older ones. But I could be a good lawyer instead. The path of spring is... _boring._ "

"And law doesn’t bore thee?"

Now he was taken by the speech, almost dreamy in his tone of voice, even proud.

"No, never."

She said it so convinced, dry and staring into his eyes, that the Inexorable himself had no doubt of the veracity of her statement. Then he released a sound of approval from his closed lips, and smiled, admiring.

"Divine Persephone, I can't lie, I can't tell thee that I'm interested in human law too. I don’t understand why thou have chosen to study in this mortal world, but I greatly admire the choice of path. Justice is a difficult subject to appreciate. What attracted thou so much? What do thou like about Law?"

Again, Persephone had to think about it. She didn't know why, but they all seemed to her like questions that hid a second purpose. Almost like an interrogation, or a job interview.

"Well, I... I like neutrality."

"Yes? Go on."

"I like the fact that... everything is relative. I like seeing every issue from multiple perspectives. I like the fact that the absolute right doesn’t exist. I like that since I started studying, I've become more... mentally open. This is difficult for Gods to understand, even for my mother. But I like it. I like the idea of taking into consideration every kind of point of view, and I love that not always what looks good is also right, and vice versa. Like that discussion we made about the unburied dead. I know I insisted, but I understood what you meant, I didn't judge you."

He remained motionless and stared at her from behind the dark glasses. Then he lowered his head a little, as if it was a gesture out of respect.

"It’s a motivation I can admire, Divine Persephone. Thou have great things in your future."

And, told by the Judge of Judges, it had the taste of the most genuine compliment one could receive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I kept "gelato" and "gelateria" and translated the name of the river Tevere.  
> Translating sure is hard work, lol. But anyway, here, have a pomegranate gelato! 🍦


	6. The rape of Persephone

Myths have mysterious origins, and there are so many versions of each of them that it’s impossible to understand which was the original one. Persephone already knew this very well. Demeter, to make her understand it from an early age, used to tell her about the true origin of the myth of Apollo and Daphne. Mortals, over time and thanks to wandering _aoidos_ , had ended up making it the story of an impossible and unrequited love; of a nymph who, in order to escape from the God of the sun and his passion, had prayed to Gaea, Mother Earth, to turn her into a laurel. This was the official version, which was still told after more than three thousand years. In the real version, less poetic, Apollo had challenged Dionysus to a drinking contest, coming out of it loser and drunk, so much so that they had found him the next morning, naked, hugging a common tree.

So yes, Persephone had been warned about the origin of the myths. Some were real, some quite similar to reality, but most were just stories pulled up by humans and fed by the Gods themselves, to maintain the aura of mystery. The young woman knew that a myth could come from anything, from the slightest scandal, from the slightest unusual event. But never, _never_ in her life she would’ve imagined that her own myth would be born of such a stupid event.

It was unexpected, sudden. As they walked, she and Hades came upon a bridge that was more crowded than the others. There were all kinds of people, quiet, certainly not criminals: some couples, a small group of teenagers, even some families. Nothing could indicate something dangerous was about to happen.

Then, out of nowhere, a young woman noticed them. Persephone saw her turn around and roll her eyes as they passed by. Her words came like a stab, interrupting their conversation in a brutal way:

"Proserpina? Are you... Divine Proserpina?"

Persephone stopped, astonished. It had only been a day since that one article was around, and she was already being recognized on the streets? Like that, from nothing? It had happened to her other times, but there was always something to justify it: she was often with her mother, famous Goddess, known face, unlike her or even that of Hades; sometimes someone had revealed her identity in public, like Hades during the conference, and then people had become interested. But that night they recognized her directly, for no reason other than her face. That woman hadn’t recognized Hades, had recognized _her_ , with her own name, even wrong. And not by observing her well, no, but only by passing her by, thanks to a fleeting glance.

"Ahm... yes, it's me..."

The young woman was a good person, she did nothing wrong. She approached and asked her for an autograph on a napkin, offering her a simple ballpoint pen. Persephone, astonished, decided to satisfy her, and signed with her real name. She also had time to explain to her admirer that they had got wrong the name on the article, and they laughed informally together.

Then, suddenly, it was chaos.

As it happened at the conference, people started to accumulate, interested in what was happening. At first few approached: the teenagers, then a couple in their twenties dressed for the club. And then... Persephone didn’t know how, but they almost seemed to multiply. She found herself surrounded.

The presence of Hades was of no use this time. Persephone couldn’t understand why: perhaps in the open air humans felt less threatened, or perhaps she had become a more appealing prey and they had a stronger motivation to know her.

She had underestimated how dangerous a crowd could be until then. She had underestimated when her mother surrounded herself with bodyguards, thinking that they were immortal after all, they didn't need it. But even a mountain is immortal, and corrodes if it is climbed by too many people.

The crowd accumulated, too pressing. They all wanted her autograph. Persephone began to feel crushed and, both forced and in search of support, had to press herself against Hades’ body, who at the touch felt like a marble statue.

"Hey... please... calm down, I can’t..."

But no one was listening, because the crowd is a unique entity, a ferocious beast: there is no way to reason with it. Persephone, now, really felt like asphyxiating _._

For the first time in her life, she was _afraid of mortals._

She was lucky that Hades was there and that he knew how to send them away. Perhaps the mere presence wasn’t enough as a prior deterrent, but certainly he could’ve done more. And he did.

He said nothing, because Death doesn't need to talk. He simply took off his glasses.

_Certainty._

He had said that his power was certainty, and immediately Persephone hadn’t understood him. But she understood as soon as she saw his eyes, just as she understood why he had kept them hidden until then.

They were dark, but not where they should’ve been. No, they seemed turned inside out: pitch black in the sclera, and a dazzling white in the iris. But it wasn’t their color the worst part, merely being a symbol of something much broader. They were hard to look at because they showed everything that is certain in the universe.

For better or for worse.

Looking at them could be both the greatest of blessings and the most terrible of torture, depending on the kind of doubt that prevails in one’s soul. Suddenly, it was like becoming _certain_ of _everything_. Are you doubting that your wife is cheating on you? Well, now it’s no longer a doubt, it’s the pure and simple truth of the matter. You start to see clearly what you had been trying to ignore so far, you begin to remember that blond hair on the pillow, that message on her cell phone at one in the morning. You begin to see certainty, and certainty becomes knowledge to the point that you almost _see_ your wife as she sleeps with another, and moans behind your back.

This was the great power of Hades. He didn't foresee the future, perhaps, but he _certainly_ _knew_ many things. Things that a God can bear, but not a human. Because humans are mortal, and one is the biggest doubt they have in life: when and how they will die.

Here's what they saw reflected in those two black chasms, the eyes of the Inexorable: their own death. Suddenly, they were _certain_ that they would leave in a _certain_ way, at a _certain_ time, with a _certain_ amount of pain.

They couldn't bear it, of course.

He took off his glasses, leaned towards the crowd of mortals, and gave some of them the most terrible of certainties. He looked at them steadily, without blinking, without saying anything. Not angry, just firm. Motionless. Severe as only the Judge of Judges can be.

The crowd suddenly stopped, all at once. Silence fell like a sad black veil over them, while Hades, static, moving only the irises, dig into their mind.

Finally, when he had made sure that they were all harmless, he turned towards the street, urging Persephone to do the same. But she, now, was overwhelmed staring at his eyes as well, and hadn’t even noticed that the car had come to pick them up.

He gently pushed her, urging her to get in, but Persephone could just stand still, petrified to look at him out of breath.

It wasn’t her choice. _She couldn't break away._

She began to be afraid, to feel her eyes burn because she couldn’t blink. She almost shuddered because she couldn't think of anything, except that she knew everything, she knew too much.

She breathed hard, feeling dizzy. Her lungs suddenly became greedy for a quantity of air they couldn’t afford. Hades had to notice, because he leaned a little on her, in that funeral silence.

Now Persephone could see his eyes even more closely, and felt that it was getting worse. She felt she would die there. She was _certain_ that even the Gods could die on particular occasions, and she was _sure_ that this would’ve been her destiny, if she couldn’t break away.

"Look away." He commanded, with serene, calm, stable tone, like the pillar of a thousand-year-old temple.

"I... can't..."

"Yes, you can."

"No…"

She felt tears pressing her eyes, for the irritation but also because it was becoming really too much. _Too much_. Knowing too much can kill.

But he sighed slowly, exasperating the act, urging her to do the same. He made his first affectionate gesture, but Persephone was in such a confused mental state that she didn't even notice: he put his hand on her cheek, trying to give her something physical to cling to with her mind, so as not to drown.

"Persephone, _look away_."

She shook her head again, crying.

"I'm sorry, I can't... I can't, please stop looking at me... "

"You must be the one to end it. You must convince yourself that you don't need certainty. I _know_ you'll make it. You must _know it_ too."

And it was as if those were the exact words she needed to hear. She tried, then, took a deep sigh, put all her strength into the effort. She tried to be _sure_ of being able to break away, in that sea of certainties that were overwhelming her. And did it, somehow.

She managed to turn her head. It was violent, as if she had torn a physical connection. She looked down at the asphalt, panting, closed her eyes. As suddenly as they were arrived, all the certainties disappeared, and she felt drained, as if they had flowed out of her body and left it deflated, a trivial empty shell.

She felt her head spin. She was about to faint.

She stumbled on the high heels, but Hades grabbed her arm and held her up, to keep her from getting hurt.

"Well done" he murmured, quietly, transmitting all the serenity of an eternal rest, "Well done, you did it. You'll be better now. Get in the car, now, can you?"

She succeeded, clinging to the roof and then falling into it on the black leather seat. Hades grip held her firmly and accompanied her on the descent. Finally, he closed the door, indifferent to the crowd that was still static on that sidewalk, and got in on the other side.

Persephone needed a few minutes to recover. She stayed motionless on the leather seat, feeling oppressed by all the black of that cabin: the darkened windows didn’t allow the dim light of the streetlamps to penetrate, giving the whole vehicle a dense atmosphere, the same of nightmares after midnight.

Persephone was still shaking: her hands on her thighs were quivering, impossible to control. Trying to calm down, she decided to look better around, to cling to some real and concrete object that could be a beacon in the night.

She found nothing. Her head was spinning. Then she turned to her left, and noticed the presence of Hades.

He was looking at her.

He was serious as usual, but somehow he seemed worried. He hadn’t put his glasses back on: Persephone was amazed for the second time by the black of his sclera, as opposed to the white of the iris, and again to the black of the pupil. It was almost a painful look, too sharp, it gave the same feeling of a cold dart stuck straight into the brain, in the middle of the forehead.

"Are you all right?" He took care to ask, and Persephone knew he was sincere.

The Goddess nodded, swallowing. She still had her eyes a little hazy, but she was better.

"Do you want me to put on my glasses?"

"No, I'm fine now."

In fact, it was no longer so difficult to detach from his eyes as the first time. Of course, not that it was nothing simple to bear. But she no longer felt the paralysis that had taken her earlier, nor did she feel her mind flooded with knowledge.

She gasped for a moment, with the obvious intention of asking for explanations, but Hades was kind enough to spare her the question and answer in advance.

"The first time is more difficult. I beg for your forgiveness, it wasn’t supposed to happen like that."

"What... what was it?"

He shook his head in a sudden gesture, as if it were obvious yet difficult to explain at the same time.

"That's how I see the world. I know it's not easy, sorry. I got carried away."

It was a very serious confession for him, Persephone realized it even though she had known him for just a couple of days. It must not have been easy for him, always so controlled, to admit that he had made an _impulsive_ gesture, even a small one.

"You really fear humans, don't you?"

Hades lowered his eyes and for the first time Persephone noticed how big they were, a little too separated from each other in the complex of his unusual face.

"All Gods fear humans."

"Yes, but you more than others."

He shrugged. Although he never admitted the validity of that insinuation, he tried to justify himself:

"They are too many for us. We are unchanging, it’s so hard for us to reproduce. We are a few hundred counting all the Pantheons, instead they are seven billion and they still increase. Do you realize what a number it is?"

"But the souls of the dead, in your kingdom, are surely more."

"The souls respond to me" he corrected, pragmatic, "I grab the bident, the shadows obey me. The living aren’t my domain, they’re too many and they’re ingenious. They’re our greatest danger, one day they too will understand it. Fear that day, Divine Persephone, because it will be the end of everything."

He didn't seem to feel any compassion, no mercy, but not even any resentment. That sounded like a prophecy, which perhaps in his mind, in his way of seeing the universe, was _certain_ and inevitable.

"Those people... those people... will be fine, right?"

She asked in a more pleading tone than she would’ve liked, realizing at that moment that the veil had slipped from her shoulders. She moved it, in a chaste and modest gesture that wasn’t like her, but which at the time she considered necessary: suddenly, she was feeling naked, physically and soulfully.

"They will recover. It takes time." Hades confirmed, but without the slightest sign of empathy for them.

Persephone, then, was able to relax a bit more. The terror of just before was finally extinguishing, leaving her tired but also calmer, as when the limbs relax after an hour of physical exercise.

"I'm taking you home" he murmured quiet, almost shy, and Persephone suspected that not having the glasses on was a test of courage for him, "I hope you’re feeling better. I’m mortified."

But yes, Persephone had recovered, and slowly she was feeling her personality find its way back to her own soul.

She smiled, still a little shy but more relaxed. She tried to relieve his pain, because it wasn't his fault, she knew it herself and didn't want him to feel guilty because of the terrible power he could release. To prove it, she put her hand on his knee and tried to defuse the situation.

"I notice you’ve finally decided to use the ‘ _you_ ’, my King. It cost a big sacrifice, but I'm happy with the result."

And then he too felt more relaxed, she could see it from how he softened his shoulder muscles. He was a hard man to read, no doubt, but Persephone had the feeling that all those details were beginning to shape an overall design, an instruction manual.

"One day early." He exhaled.

"I mean, do you have a set number of days to stop using the ‘ _thou_ ’?"

"Yes. Is it so outdated for your youngling spirit, Devine Persephone?"

The Goddess laughed, relieved, forgetting all the previous anxiety. She lowered her eyes, raised an eyebrow, allusive.

"Actually, I'm Kore for friends."

She hoped that he could allow that further confidence, at least as compensation for what happened just before. But he did not: to Hades every kind of personal interaction took time and patience. So, he smiled, accommodating but immovable.

He put his hand on hers, which was still on his knee, covering it all.

" _Persephone_." He declared.

And at that moment the Goddess sensed that she would’ve had to wait a little longer for _Kore_.

It was a rather long journey to get out of the city, and then into the countryside to Demeter’s villa. When they arrived, Persephone noticed that her mother hadn’t yet returned, and therefore took care to send her a text message to warn her that she was at home, she was fine and would go to sleep.

Hades got out the car first and rushed to open the door before she did. He _really_ cared. Persephone had to remember to let him do it, sometimes, if it was so important to him.

He offered her his hand and she accepted it willingly, also because her feet were hurting badly. As soon as she saw her garden, she wished more than ever to take off those infernal shoes and walk barefoot on the grass.

"Thanks for the ride." She said, with a sincere and grateful smile.

He lowered his head slightly in a half bow.

"Thank thou for the company."

"Ehy! That damn thou!"

His dark eyes narrowed.

"Thank _you_."

Persephone, satisfied, put her hand on his forearm, in a gesture both affectionate and detached, because she would’ve liked to go further. Usually the other Gods loved traditional Mediterranean greetings and goodbyes: hugs and kisses on the cheeks. Persephone loved them, too. But Hades didn’t look like he could appreciate something that physical, so she didn’t even try. 

"Are you coming back in the Underworld?"

He nodded gravely.

"Yes. I'm leaving now."

"So this is the last time we meet?"

Again, he narrowed his eyes. For the first time, Persephone was glad that they were free of glasses, because they were much more expressive than the rest of the body .

"Maybe."

The Goddess sought the rip-off in those words: another one of the enigmatic answers of the Inexorable, laconic and lapidary, to say neither yes nor no.

"Are you building up some evil plan, your majesty?"

He smiled broadly.

"Maybe." He reiterated.

As many times in those days, Persephone knew he wouldn’t have changed that answer, even driven by the powerful rapids of the Styx itself.

How long can it take a story to become a myth? Years? Centuries?

No. Days.

Just a few days were enough for the story of Persephone to take off, transform, become something very different from the real facts. It would’ve taken centuries to consolidate it, to change it into poetry, but the first seed was there immediately. And it was an unimaginable sensation.

It was morning. It was a day like any other and Persephone, now convinced that she had left the sacred week behind, was getting dressed to go to university. She was putting on a pair of flowery converses, at the same time reading absently from the book of Roman monographic law, fearing that the professor would ask some questions about the previous week lecture.

Then, suddenly, a scream.

"PERSEPHONE! COME HERE!"

It was Demeter. And a screaming Cronid shakes the foundations of the earth. The young Goddess wondered if even _he_ could hear his sister’s cry, from down there.

Persephone rushed into the living room, alarmed, immediately thinking of an accident, or something she had done wrong, even though she didn't know what. When she came in sight of his mother, she saw her with wide, troubled eyes, pointing to the TV with the remote control in her hand.

Persephone didn’t immediately understand. She turned her eyes to her mother, then back to the TV. Then, suddenly, the revelation: there was a photo on the screen, on the international news.

A photo of her and Hades.

It had been taken during the accident on the bridge, with all that crowd around. There were no journalists from what Persephone could remember, but in the age of smartphones there was nothing that could escape the millions of billions of cameras crowding the streets day and night, constantly.

And so, there it was, a photo of her and Hades. A horrible one.

It gave a completely distorted idea of what had happened. It had been taken from an unfortunate angle, in which there wasn’t Hades’ face visible, but there was hers, and it was petrified. And above all, it was visible his tight grip on her arm. He was there to keep her up, because she was about to faint, but from the picture it looked like a kind of aggression to push her into the car.

Persephone froze. She didn't even hear what the anchorman was saying, she was shocked. She looked at her mother, unable to breathe.

"I swear. I swear it’s not what it looks like."

But Demeter was so furious that her nostrils were widening. Her jaw was clicking. Persephone, not to see the wrath of a Cronid who was about to explode, preferred to bring her gaze back to the television. If possible, however, she remained even more petrified reading the overlay text. It said: _God of the dead kidnaps the Spring._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fake news, fake news everywhere... xD


	7. Formalizing the myth

"Mom, believe me, it's not what it looks like."

But Demeter was petrified. Her eyes were so wide that they seemed like they were about to drop within the skull and reappearing in her mouth, as in that scene from _Beetlejuice_. 

"Mom, please... don't look at me like that, nothing happened!"

"Explain. Now."

Persephone smiled nervously and scratched her head in embarrassment, aware that she looked more guilty than she was. But it wasn’t because she had something to hide, only that she was ashamed to admit the reaction she had had in seeing Hades in the eyes. It made her appear like a stupid Barbie.

"He... he just protected me, he didn't do anything wrong, really!"

"What happened? Speak. Tell me everything."

Persephone swallowed, feeling in her the wrath of the Titans, her parents. She tried to be concise, precise, honest.

"We were walking, there were people who recognized me and they became a bit too invasive. I was getting worried and he took off his glasses to push them away. And... nothing serious, I mean… I saw his eyes and I... got a little scared. I was about to faint and he helped me. That's just... a horrible photo taken out of context. And of course Hades didn't kidnap me, as I hope you guessed from my presence here. Really, nothing... nothing happened."

Total silence. Persephone looked into Demeter's yellow eyes and saw impassiveness, the same as Hades, to tell the truth. It was the first time she saw a similarity between the two brothers.

"Mom?" She tried to unlock her, and finally Demeter blinked, showing signs of life.

In the end, she sighed, still angry: maybe with towards her daughter, or maybe with Hades, or maybe with the newscasts always looking for a scoop.

"Could you swear to me what you just said?"

"Yes! I swear it. I’d even swear on the river Sty…"

"No!" Demeter interrupted, suddenly, "No, I believe you, your word is enough for me. Don't swear on the Styx, ever, not even as a joke! It's too dangerous."

And, suddenly, she became the usual loving Demeter that she had always been: she relaxed, got up from the couch and rushed over to her daughter. She hugged her and Persephone returned, feeling the rough linen tunic Demeter was wearing that day. When they broke away, they sat back down on the couch, to calm down.

"Kore, I got really scared... "

"You shouldn’t have. If he had done something bad, I would’ve told you right away, you know. Actually..." she stopped for a moment, wondering if she could talk to her freely, as she would’ve done with Caterina, "to be honest, he was a gentleman. If I hadn't practically forced him, he wouldn't even have talked to me informally."

A brief hint of hilarity in Demeter's thin lips, and for a moment Persephone saw in her expression something that seemed like brotherly love. But it was faded, faint, like the light of a streetlamp immersed in the November fog.

"Yes, he has always been like that" then she became a little more curious, allusive, "and... how about his eyes? How long did it take you to win?"

Persephone was surprised, shrugging her shoulders.

"I don't know, half a minute I think. Why, is it common?"

"Oh, there’s no living creature that can look into his eyes and come out of it the same as before. Not even the Gods."

Persephone heaved a silent sigh of relief. She had believed that hers was weakness, the inability to resist the powers of a Cronid King by a young minor Goddess. Knowing that her reaction was normal encouraged her a lot.

"So, it was like this for you too?"

And here again, that half-dreamy smile.

"Yes, a long, long time ago. We were young. He didn't want to open them, you know? His eyes were closed all the time, he was afraid of hurting someone. That’s why they’re so dark now, they haven’t developed as they should. It was me... I convinced him to open them the first time... "

Demeter froze, her brows furrowed. She seemed to be remembering things so old that they were almost forgotten. Her lips tightened a bit, in fact, bitterly. She dropped against the back of the sofa, meditating. Persephone didn’t know why she was suddenly telling her all those things: she had never spoken of Hades before, she just used to vaguely mention him sometimes, during stories of famous myths, without a real sentimental meaning. However Persephone, now for the first time, was in doubt that Hades and Demeter didn’t hate each other at all. She was in doubt that, on the contrary, they used to have a very close connection.

"You love him, don’t you?" She asked, without refraining.

Demeter looked at her. Her golden irises, the same color of wheat, seemed more ancient than ever. But she too, in all her infinite wisdom, knew that it would’ve been useless to lie to Persephone about feelings.

"I _loved_ him. Our relationship have cooled down, several millennia ago."

"Why?"

But that moment of confessions, as it had arrived, ended. Demeter shook her head, and her blond hair danced to the sides of her face.

"Different life choices." She dismissed the topic.

Persephone knew that the window had closed for that day, she wouldn’t have obtained anything else.

The news of her alleged abduction spread the whole universe in a few hours, so much so that Persephone was assaulted with calls and messages. She wanted to go to class, but, under those circumstances, she had no wish to set foot outside the house, only to be attacked again by some paparazzi. Looking out the window, she wondered if someone wasn’t already stationed waiting for her, but above all she wondered if that would be her life from that moment on. She was feeling like she was part of a witness protection program. She just wanted to go back to her previous, insignificant life.

Caterina was the first Persephone talked to on the phone. She was alarmed, asking Persephone where she was, how she was and, to close the climax, if she were still alive. The young Goddess reassured her, then told her that she didn't feel like going out, and asked her if she could come to her house.

When she arrived, Cate rushed to hug her as if she was seeing her resurrected.

"Kore! Kore, I was going to die of fright! But what happened?"

Persephone promised to tell her everything, but first it was better to get to her room, to at least have the illusion of privacy. They sat down on the bed and began to discuss about journalists (the conclusion was that they sucked), then they talked about Hades and his quiet impulsiveness, then about how Persephone was feeling that everything was now heavy on her shoulders, like the universe on Atlas’.

Yes, everything was happening too fast. She couldn't even remember how she ended up in that situation. She had expressed the desire to be more important, hadn’t she? Quite right. But perhaps she had underestimated the disadvantages. Now more than ever, the biggest dream she had was to graduate in peace, and at that point she didn't know if it would’ve been possible.

And, meanwhile, the cell phone was ringing, incessantly. Everyone was calling her, even people she hadn't heard of in ten years. Were they all suddenly so worried about her safety? Unlikely. Persephone had the feeling that they were only interested in the fact that she had appeared on television, it didn't matter for what.

Swallowing, wrapped in cynicism, Persephone silenced both the ringtone and the vibration. She threw her phone on the bed, nervous. She sighed, and Caterina tried to comfort her, rubbing her shoulder.

"Well… I think it’s nothing serious. They’ll quickly forget about it, you’ll see" she was absolutely wrong, but she couldn’t know yet, "if you want to speed things up, you could ask for an interview."

"You say?"

"Yes, you go on TV and explain your version... you can prove that you’re alive, you’re fine, and very much a virgin as everyone seem to expect of you..."

"I’m not going to talk about my vaginal activity in front of cameras."

Cate's eyes widened, blue and gaudy, so feminine and Petrarch-like that they were in sharp contrast with the shaved haircut and they eyebrow piercing.

"Kore, you _are_ a virgin, aren’t you?"

"Yes! I told you nothing happened!"

"Nothing… _nothing_?"

" _Nothing_."

"Not even an innocent kiss between uncle and niece?"

Persephone rolled her eyes in exasperation. She looked badly at Caterina, and she hoped she could transmit even a small percentage of Hades’ glaciality.

"He's not my uncle. And anyway no, he didn't even want courtesy kisses. He’s actually very... shy."

Caterina raised an eyebrow, the one with the piercing, very skeptical.

" _He_ is shy?"

"He is. I think all that penguin-attitude is just his way of taking it easy."

Caterina was increasingly skeptical. But she didn't comment, she shrugged and tried to change the subject, proposing to eat something together, study a little, and then watch a movie to relax.

Just when Persephone was about to consent, however, Caterina stopped. She frowned and pointed to the display on Persephone’s cell phone, still abandoned on the bed next to them.

"That's a strange area code." She noticed, and Persephone had to look.

There was an incoming call, not announced due to the absence of both the ringtone and the vibration. But there was the number on the screen: it started with _+000._

Persephone also frowned.

"Oh, it's the area code for otherworlds."

"Olympus?"

"Olympus isn’t an otherworld, it shows as Greece’s area code. And anyway, who would call me from Olympus?"

"Then I bet it’s Hades."

"I'm not sure Hades has phones in the Underworld."

The two friends looked at each other and understood, without saying anything, that the only way to find out was to accept the call. Whoever it was, it had to be important, and certainly Persephone couldn’t afford to refuse.

Then the Goddess reached out, grabbed the phone. 

"Hello?"

A moment of silence, so much so that Persephone thought of a joke. Then, suddenly, a voice now all too familiar in its quiet disinterest:

" _Good afternoon, Divine Persephone. Looks like I've kidnapped you, did you know?_ "

Persephone widened a smile, unable to restrain herself. She covered the microphone with one hand and whispered to Caterina that, speaking of the devil, it really was Hades. Cate made a gesture of exultation, proud of having understood it immediately.

Persephone returned to the phone call.

"Your Majesty! I didn't think I could hear you so soon!"

" _A mandatory phone call. I needed to make sure that my hostage was all right_."

He didn't seem bothered, in fact just slightly amused. But, as always, he was a gentleman, and so he had worried about the consequences the news was having on Persephone.

"Oh, I’m okay, kidnapper, don't worry. Bad news travel fast even down there, don’t they?"

" _Television_." He explained, laconically yet precisely, without wasting time composing a complete sentence.

"And how did you get my number?"

" _Internet. Where do you think I live, Antarctica?_ "

If she had to be completely sincere, Persephone imagined the Underworld much worse than Antarctica. But she didn’t say it, she didn’t want to offend her very touchy interlocutor. After all, Hades had given his kingdom his own name.

" _To tell the truth_ " the God resumed, " _Divina Persephone, I found your number on your LinkedIn profile, and I had to read your profile…_ "

Persephone, for some reason, was surprised to hear the King of the Underworld talking about social networks. But, in fact. a social network dedicated work really had to be the only one that could capture his inexorable interest.

"Oh, I’m sorry you wasted your time, you would’ve found much more interesting things on Instagram. Anyway, what did you find out? You sound very proud of yourself."

" _Looks like you’re an honor student._ "

"Did you doubt it?"

" _Never doubted your intelligence, but yes, I doubted your constancy. I was wrong._ "

Once again, Hades overly honest manner of speaking upset and amused her at the same time. Caterina had to notice her hesitant expression, because now she was waving, begging to make her listen.

Persephone tried to sedate her, mimicking with her lips that it was better to calm down, because she couldn't talk with her mother around the house. However, she couldn’t event finish the sentence, because Demeter appeared in the doorway, with a suspicious look.

"Who's on the phone, Kore?"

Persephone tried to shake her head, to say it was nothing important. But the more she tried to dissuade her, the more Demeter became suspicious. She entered the room, skeptical.

"It’s Hades, isn’t it? Tell him he may have behaved, but anyway he’s out of the picture. He spoils your reputation."

But Persephone wasn’t listening. She nodded, disinterested, returned to listening on the phone, hoping that Demeter would leave. Obviously, she didn't leave. Indeed, she tried to stay and capture the conversation.

" _Persephone? Are you still on the line?_ "

"Yes, yes, sorry. There's movement here."

" _I was saying that I was wrong about your lack of organization. You always got excellent grades, you have made short but interesting work experiences, although unfortunately in the mortal world. You were also on Erasmus._ "

Persephone was more and more confused, she had no idea why he was saying those things.

"Yeah, well, I told you I like my field of study. If something excites me, I willingly commit myself."

" _Admirable._ "

And the conversation seemed to have stopped there, suddenly, like all the times Hades responded with just one word. The Goddess had to encourage him.

"Why are you telling me all this?"

" _Because I had an idea, thanks to your kidnapping_."

"Do you really want to kidnap me now?"

" _It's not in my interest, no. Bringing you kicking in Erebus would be disrespectful and superfluous, considering that I know you’ll be interested in coming on your own free will. I was thinking about a job offer_."

Job offer.

Offer.

Of a job.

The more she repeated it, the more it sounded like a mockery. Job offer. It was echoing in her head like a litany. After what seemed an eternity of total emptiness, her physical reaction was to open her mouth, bewildered, and then close it again. She didn't know what to say.

" _Persephone?_ "

"I'm here."

" _Can I illustrate the details?_ "

She told him yes, of course, but actually she wasn't quite sure yet that she had unlocked. Especially now that Cate and her mother, seeing her reaction, were approaching, trying to get something out of the conversation.

" _We have an ongoing exchange project between Pantheons for entering the labour market. It’s a six-month internship. Usually it’s meant for minor creatures: many Germanic sylphs, Celtic fae, some soul of Egyptian scribe. We do it to bring cultures closer. I know it might seem a humble position to propose to a Goddess of your caliber, but I thought it might interest you, because of your studies._ "

Persephone was still open-mouthed, completely flat encephalogram.

She glanced at Cate and Demeter, who looked at her with wide eyes, but she understood from their curious expression that they had heard nothing.

" _Persephone?_ "

It was the third time he had to draw her attention and she felt like an idiot.

"Sorry! Sorry, I'm here! I was just thinking."

" _Think aloud._ "

Actually, the Goddess could feel a very slight note of anxiety in his always flat tone of voice. Perhaps the idea of proposing it was a challenge for him too, and she was making him boil in his broth of anxiety and shyness a bit too much.

"Uh... actually it's a great idea!" She quickly reassured, "But I have to think about it first, and ask my mother her opinion."

" _You're an adult._ "

Yes, but she didn't want to argue with Demeter by imposing a long absence without even tell her. And then, what harm was there in admitting that she _really wanted_ her mother's opinion?

She changed the subject so as not to contradict anyone.

"Six months, did you say?"

" _Yes. I believe the other interns started on September 23, but you can start a few days late, it’s not an issue. Mid-October could suit you?_ "

"And it would be there, right? I mean, down... where you live..."

" _Erebus. Is it so scary to call it by its name?_ "

This time he had an amused tone.

"It doesn't scare me, it's just that it has a thousand names and I never know which one to use without offending you, _your majesty_."

A light laugh from the other end of the phone, cold naturally and made even more colder by the artificiality of the speaker.

" _I use Erebus, but you can call it as you prefer_."

Persephone, for a moment, forgot that she was under the watchful and judging eyes of friend and mother, and decided to reply with the same irony, which seemed to reassure and soothe him. Not that he needed to be appeased. But he certainly needed to laugh a little more.

"I thought you preferred to call it _Hades_ , since you gave it your same name."

" _I didn't choose that one. Historical translation inaccuracies_."

"Oh."

" _Yes. So, are you interested in the internship?_ "

Persephone smiled happily, finding the idea increasingly intriguing. An internship in the Tribunal of Tribunals? It would’ve been foolish to say no. But she tried not to be impulsive as usual, to be a reasoning adult and to play her cards right.

"Yes, I'm interested, but like I said I have to think about it. And then I need some more details. Task? Is it paid?"

" _It would be more convenient to talk about it orally. May I invite you here for a dinner? If you don't want to accept, at least you’ll have made a first diplomatic visit to the Underworld, Divine Persephone. You seemed very interested in the river Styx a few days ago._ "

"Yes, I... I’d love to see it."

" _It’s awaiting you only._ "

Persephone chuckled and that was the final incentive to make Demeter's curious overprotection overflow: she approached with her face, trying to catch Hades' voice from the wrong side of the phone.

Hades, on the other hand, didn’t make her wait too much. He raised his voice, indeed: now his voice was so loud that Persephone, Demeter, Cate and probably the rest of the capital city could hear it.

" _However, you can tell my sister, who I’m sure is eavesdropping and spilling acid in my direction, that if I wanted to seduce you I wouldn’t need the excuse of an internship._ "

The three women gave each other an eloquent, bewildered, embarrassed look. Persephone pursed her lips, feeling crushed between two powers much stronger than hers. She handed the phone to her mother:

"I think he wants to talk to you."

Demeter shook her head, annoyed. She ripped the phone from the hands of her daughter, exhaling, and spoke into it so disgusted she could compete with Hera, the Eternally Pissed Off Goddess.

"I don't know what kind of ambiguous courtship methods you could ever adopt, God of deception."

Again, Hades spoke loudly to the receiver, and everyone could hear the answer.

" _That’s Loki_."

"What do you want from my daughter?"

" _I've already told her._ "

The nostrils of Demeter's pointed nose widened as she exhaled, powerful and exasperated. She closed her eyelids, moistened her dry lips.

"You offered her an internship in your pit, didn't you?"

" _I just invited her to dinner in my pit, we’ll talk about the internship. You’re invited too, sister, are you happy? Let me have your availability by e-mail, someone will pick you up. And now I beg your pardon, but I have to work._ _Γειά_ _σας_ _._ "

And he ended the communication, without adding anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To find a job has never been so easy for grad students... especially not in Italy. That's why it's called fiction. LOL.


	8. Swearing on the Styx

As Hades had said, the road to the Underworld was long: that was the main reason why the King had later offered, throughout the organization, to host Persephone and her mother at least for one night. Demeter, of course, refused vehemently. Not so much for keeping Persephone away from the Underworld, but for herself: she didn't hide at all that she hated Erebus, in all that it was and represented. Perhaps there was still hope for her to recover a relationship with Hades, but there had never been, since the beginning of time, hope that she would appreciate the Underworld. She usually avoided come down and, even if she did, it had to be for as little time as possible. That's why they left in the morning to arrive in the evening, and the plan was to leave immediately after dinner to return to the surface during the night.

Hades' car that came to pick them up, and again it wasn't so much to boast about his status, as much for practice: not everyone knew how to get into Erebus, so they needed a car with a registered license plate and a driver who knew how to handle the entrance. Persephone felt like she was about to enter Area 51.

The journey was long and for the most part monotonous. Apparently, the entrance to the Underworld wasn’t far away (a couple of hours were enough to reach it, and a few minutes to pass the border controls); but Erebus was very deep, and they traveled many miles along a tunnel, nothing special, as there were a thousand others. 

In all, it took them six hours of almost complete darkness. Persephone felt a gradual discomfort in her ears due to the pressure and heaviness in the body, as if it was hard to breathe, crushed by all the tons of earth above her head.

Then, when Persephone was no longer hoping for it, there was a sudden increase of light. The Goddess almost thought it was a flash, and she revived from the torpor that had almost made her fall sleep on the seat.

"What was it?"

"We’re almost there, Divine. Look out." The driver informed her.

Persephone woke up completely, suddenly feeling the adrenaline increase. She leaned toward the window and at first saw nothing, except the usual concrete walls and electric lights. Then, unexpectedly, the wall disappeared. They left that tunnel, and it was like walking on the edge of the universe.

There was light. Everywhere.

Persephone had believed that the underworld was a deadly dark place, to which she had to get accustomed. Instead, everything was shimmering, so as to bring Apollo, God of light, to his knees. Maybe in Erebus there weren’t a sky and sun, but there were millions, billions of tiny lights, like stars, glued to the walls and the ceiling of what seemed like an enormous cavern. Only by looking better Persephone saw that they were _diamonds_.

Diamonds set in the rock. They were so many to the same Milky Way had to be envious.

But diamonds do not shine by their own, and in fact they were just reflecting something else: the light coming from the city that was built in that cave. It was the city of Dis, and Persephone could see it from afar, while the car was running along the road near the rocky promontory. The buildings were all immersed in that bluish electric light. There was nothing warm in that atmosphere, neither the colors nor the climate, but this didn’t affect its suggestiveness.

To border the edges of Dite, a dark river, which snaked quiet and disturbing. Persephone wondered if it was the Styx or one of the other four infernal rivers, because she wasn’t sure at all: she had completely lost her sense of direction and didn’t know which way they had entered and in which they were heading.

To the side of the city, instead, not far from the river, the palace of Hades. It was impossible not to recognize it, given its majesty and its ancient architectural style, so in contrast with the modern Dis. From afar, Persephone could see the sloping roof, the columns in the entrance, and an empty park around. There was no vegetation, of course. _Nothing_ grew in Erebus.

Persephone was amazed all the way, without knowing what to say or do, frozen by both wonder and temperature. She was able to recover only when Demeter, shrugging her shoulders, asked the driver to turn on the heater.

Finally, her mother also leaned over her side of the window, the one overlooking the cliff. Persephone smiled as she heard her on her shoulder.

"I can’t deny it’s very beautiful." She stated, both dreamy and a guilty for that admission.

"It's... it's magical." Persephone could only mumble, still haunted by the splendor of all that wealth.

There was no occasion to admire the city, because they travelled a road that took them directly to the palace, coming down from the promontory and finally crossing the river through a deserted bridge. Persephone had expected to be ferried, as by myth, but she realized in that moment that perhaps the God of the Underworld had to modernize and speed up the journey of the souls, more numerous than ever in that overcrowded era.

Once they reached the confines of the palace, they crossed a gate and found themselves in that empty park that Persephone had seen from afar. There was nothing alive, not even grass: just gravel and some artificial decorations, including two fountains at the end of the path.

The car finally pulled over. Persephone, anxious to set foot and stretch her legs, opened the door and rushed out. Immediately she realized she had dressed too lightly, in her long pink dress, which left her back naked. She hadn't even worn a shawl, because on the surface it was still warm: in fact, immediately, she felt goosebumps cover her from head to toe. She even considered let down her hair to warm at least her neck, but in the end she simply hoped that it would be warmer inside.

" _Γειά_ _σας_ " said a familiarvoice, "I hope the journey was comfortable."

Persephone turned and saw Hades standing in front of the stairway. He wasn’t there a second earlier, so she wondered how he could appear so suddenly and quietly. Or maybe... maybe she hadn't notice him. After all, he was famous for stealth: one of his epithets was _The Unseen._

" _Γειά_ _σας_ _,_ _ᾍδης_ _._ Long and monotonous, as usual." Demeter answered, stiff but all in all with a smile on her lips.

The Goddess approached her brother, nearly equaling him in height, and she imposed him the three courtesy kisses on the cheeks. Kisses that Hades accepted in the most formal way possible, without letting go of any gesture that could suggest affection for her. After that, he turned and spread a cold smile towards Persephone. He held out his hand as if to welcome her. He performed his usual half bow.

"Divine Persephone, it’s a pleasure to have you here."

"My pleasure."

Whenever she talked to him, Persephone felt like she had to start all over again. As if, left alone for a few days, he would go back to forgetting any progress in interpersonal relationships.

"Did you see the Styx coming here?"

The young woman smiled.

"Oh, so it's the Styx? I wasn't sure, I'm not informed of Erebus’ geography."

Hades let go of her hand only at that moment and put his in the pockets, as he always did. Even that day, he was wearing an elegant suit, more informal because of the absence of the tie and the unbuttoned collar.

"I confirm, it's the Styx. The others are its tributaries, but it’s not possible to see them from here. How did you find it?"

"Majestic and peaceful. Very suggestive!"

Actually, the Styx and the King were very similar.

"I’m sure you would like the Lethe even more. I'd like to show it to you one day."

And while she was there, listening to his quiet and courteous words, Persephone realized that he never looked at her in the eyes. He was keeping them low, almost closed, pointing to his own feet. The Goddess, though short and far below him, could not intercept his gaze, and suddenly she understood why: she remembered how Demeter had said that Hades, as a young man, was afraid of hurting someone. Perhaps that was the problem.

Then she reached up and touched his forearm from above his dark jacket, reassuring.

"My King, do you like the flowers I chose for tonight’s dinner?"

It was an excuse of course, and he knew it too. But Persephone saw him smile, sincere and almost shy, a sign that he had caught and appreciated the attempt to make him look up.

And, in fact, he raised his eyes. In a move suddenly his clear ireses where pointing Persephone’s head. He admired the flowers that adorned her hairstyle for a moment.

"Lovely."

"They’re asphodels. I know they’re sacred to your cult."

Hades brought his eyes directly into hers, with a slight hint of apprehension. But, when it was obvious that nothing bad was going to happen, he relaxed his shoulders a little. He smiled more calmly.

"Yes, indeed. They’re very beautiful, thank you. But now come in, you must be cold out here."

And he began to make his way, leading them both first on the staircase, then through the Corinthian columns of the pronaos. The whole building was black, sometimes changing to gold, but only in shades. A shiny material, similar to glass, which Persephone identified as obsidian. In that luminous darkness, Hades, always dressed in black, became difficult to identify. He seemed less intimidating as he accompanied them through the enormous front door, or as he walked through the corridors with coffered ceiling at least ten meters high.

"We will dine in my private wing" he announced, neutral, "there’s confusion in the rest of the court, I haven’t had the opportunity to have the diplomatic hall prepared. I hope this doesn't bother you."

"Hades, we just want a normal dinner, that's okay." Demeter stopped him, dry.

Persephone thought her mother was acting strangely, to be honest. She seemed like one big contradiction: she was expressing reassuring words and concepts, but too harshly to sound sincere; she was looking around, bewitched by all that beauty and abundance, but at the same time if Persephone looked at her she changed her expression, assuming a disgusted attitude. It was impossible to understand if she was happy to be there or otherwise terribly annoyed, and the same doubt remained for her feelings towards the brother.

They walked along what seemed like miles and miles of corridors, mostly deserted, both of people and of furniture. The only peculiar things to look at were bas-reliefs on the walls, which represented various battles. Among these, the _Titanomachy_ was unmistakable: the three kings defying the Titans and winning, enclosing them forever in Tartarus. Even in those stylized images it was easy to recognize Hades, with a black cape and helmet, Zeus with the lightning, Poseidon with the trident. Above all it was easy to recognize their greatest enemy as well as their father: Cronus, the greatest of the Titans, ready to devour his sons.

Persephone trembled, because she knew that that one, unlike other more imaginative myths, had really taken place, a long time ago. Cronus, father of the five major Gods, had devoured them until the youngest, Zeus, had freed them from his stomach, starting the war. Persephone had never had enough courage to ask Demeter about Cronus, about the Titanomachy, or about her childhood, but she knew she still suffered from it. All the Cronids suffered from it. Certainly Hades as well.

She awakened from her thoughts only when, finally, the corridor ended, and they found themselves crossing the last door.

They were in the King's quarters.

"Make yourself comfortable, please. Our dinner will be served soon."

He pointed to the large rectangular table in the center of the room. However, the space was wider, and didn’t seem to be divided by actual doors or walls. It seemed more like an open-space, with some columns delimiting the rooms, with heavy dark purple drapes hanging, to hide the more private areas. Persephone, stretching her neck a little, could see a room with sofas, and the reflection of a dancing fire on the polished obsidian floor.

It was a very strange environment, to be honest. Rich, elegant, dark like its owner, but somehow it seemed to combine styles that had nothing to do with each other. It was traditional in fact, with fluted columns and decorated ceiling, but at the same time the furniture was modern, as well as the electric light on cold tones. The dining table, for example, was made of glass, and it was something that Persephone had expected to find in a conference room.

That place seemed the perfect blend of old and new, welcoming and aseptic at the same time. It didn't make much sense, and yet Persephone liked it. It was particular.

Hades insisted that they took their seats, and he personally served the chair to accommodate them, starting with Persephone. The two Goddesses seated facing each other at the sides of the table, and Hades at the head, only after they were both comfortable.

"You've modernized too, I see" began Demeter, still with that tone halfway between interested and accusing, "I thought you were much more traditionalist."

Hades gave no sign of either annoyance or amusement.

"It was necessary. Mortal technology makes everything more efficient, I have to admit."

"I expected to see you wearing the chiton."

This time Demeter was smiling, playful. Finally she appeared to have chosen what emotion to keep, and Persephone was grateful that it was a positive one.

Hades himself smiled, so faintly that his lips seemed to dissolve into the darkness of that place. He narrowed his eyes, large and dark, and to avoid sitting still he started pouring red wine into their glasses.

"I prefer it, anyway. I still use it during the hearings."

"You were born old, brother."

"I'm not old. I am _ancient_."

A joke. It was always strange to hear jokes from him, because he usually said them in the same flat tone as the rest of his conversations, and therefore it wasn’t easy to distinguish them. But this time he was more sincere than usual, and Persephone was unable to hold back a laugh. Hades immediately turned to her, astonished to have made her laugh so genuinely. Surely there weren’t many listeners able to understand his kind of humor.

"But I see you dressed very lightly" he seized the opportunity, "are you cold? Do you want a shawl?"

He addressed that last question to Persephone, observing her penetratingly, lingering for a few seconds on her bare shoulders and arms, her exposed back. The young Goddess felt pierced by his dark and clear gaze, so contrasting, so particular. She smiled.

"No, it's not a problem. If I'll come to the internship, however, I’ll bring the winter wardrobe."

"I'm sorry, I know the climate isn’t the most welcoming."

He finished pouring the wine to himself, always looking at her. It seemed that he was studying her, actually. Then he leaned back on his seat and Persephone saw that he began to drink only when she did it first, and even stopped when she stopped, although it was a short sip.

Hades was a gentleman, and he certainly cared even more if he was at home. He was a really good host, almost too formal. Persephone thought that she would’ve liked to spend another easygoing date with him, like the evening after the charity auction. She really had enjoyed herself that night.

In the end, his thoughts were interrupted by dinner. A woman, a dark nymph, with gunmetal-colored skin and long pointed ears, came to serve them the first dish: an appetizer of fish and grilled vegetables.

Almost immediately Hades and Demeter began to talk about this and that, always in a very formal way. And from the beginning Persephone found it difficult to fit into their conversation, while they talked about past ages in which she wasn’t even born, not even as a first seed of idea. Therefore, she devoted herself to the appetizers, and only ate the vegetables. She hoped with all her heart that Hades didn't notice, because she hadn't thought of warning him of her diet, and she didn't want to embarrass him with the dinner prepared already. Hades, on the contrary, did nothing but throw glances at her, even though he was speaking with his sister. He checked what Persephone did with maniacal precision, and brought _nothing_ to his mouth if it wasn’t Persephone the first doing it.

The young Goddess began to feel really in trouble when she realized that the second dish was entirely based on meat. There was also roasted lamb, sacred to the Gods, but for her nauseating, symbol of sacrificial cruelty. She would’ve liked to silence her moral, just for one night, so as not to offend him. But she didn’t make it: her stomach closed automatically. She ate nothing.

And nothing ate Hades.

When dinner was over and the table was cleared, Persephone's traitor stomach gurgled. She tried to hide it, talking over it or clearing her throat.

As she would soon learn, however, Hades was one with some attention to detail. If he had noticed she had eaten nothing, he had also noticed that Persephone was still hungry. When it was too much for him too, and the sense of hospitality outclassed that of discretion, he asked her:

"You haven’t eaten anything, Divine Persephone. Didn't you like it?"

Persephone held her breath and smiled sheepishly, not knowing what to say.

"Oh, no, I'm sure it was delicious, it's that... I'm a vegetarian. I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. Well... I didn't _want_ to tell you, I didn't want to sound too fussy."

She said it, with such sincerity that she even surprised herself. Hades' reaction was the same of Caesar stabbed by Brutus: he opened his eyes wide, frozen more than usual. Persephone saw his face go pale, and she didn’t believe it was possible, given his already cadaveric complexion.

"Persephone, I'm _really mortified_."

And he was, she could feel it. Persephone would have expected it, to tell the truth: as Demeter had said, he was someone who cared about gallantry, and not serving a worthy meal to a woman had to be one of his worst nightmares. Not to mention, then, the whole question of impeccable hospitality, as important for him as it was for all the Gods of the Classic Pantheon. For them, welcoming people at home was a real moral duty: _xenia._

"It doesn't matter, really! I ate the side dishes, no problem."

"I'll have the servants prepare something else."

It wasn’t a question, but Persephone tried to dissuade him anyway, so as not to feel too much of a nuisance.

"No, no, really, no need!"

"What do you like? A salad? Italian pasta?"

"No, seriously... I'm fine."

"At least the fruit" he begged her, discouraged, "we have excellent pomegranates, I remember you like them. They’re our specialty, please taste them."

Persephone didn’t feel like saying no another time, also and above all because it would’ve seemed rude to refuse the fruits _of_ theUnderworld _in_ theUnderworld. Shortly after, a whole fruit bowl was brought to the table, filled with pomegranates already opened. Persephone took one, starting to eat the seeds with a teaspoon.

At that point, finally, they could talk better about the burning question.

"Anyway, Persephone, I’d like to give you some more details about the internship" said Hades, while he watched her eating pomegranate, heartened, "as I said, it’s six months. It takes place here at court and it’s paid."

Persephone enlarged a smile and seized the opportunity for a joke.

"In diamonds?"

Hades spread a smile.

"Obviously. And I'll let you choose the color."

Another joke. He was really going loose that night.

Persephone opened her mouth to reply, but saw the categorical seriousness in her mother's face, so she behaved.

"What will I have to do exactly?"

It was a very general question, Persephone realized it, but to be honest she hadn’t the slightest idea how things worked there. She had no idea even what Hades was doing during his day.

"There are various tasks, but in general you will have to attend some hearings and handle minor cases."

"Cases... of souls?"

"Yes. Decide on their future in the Underworld according to how they behaved in life."

Persephone pursed her lips.

"Sounds like... a big responsibility."

At that point, Hades spread an encouraging smile with thin lips. Demeter watched in silence, without commenting.

"Let’s not get ahead. I wouldn't have proposed you anything if I wasn’t _sure_ you can handle it. You'll get used."

Persephone sighed and calmed down, watching him in his deep eyes. She knew it was thanks to his power, she remembered the feeling of the _abduction_ evening, and it was the same. But this time, as well as certain of the fact that she could face that new job, she was also reassured. His look could take away all kinds of worries.

"Okay, it sounds… interesting."

"I'm sure you would like it. I noticed your interest when you asked that question about the unburied dead, and _I liked it._ I don’t share your point of view, but I still need a different perspective. That's why _I know_ you'll be perfect here. You have so much to give, and it would be a pity to waste it all in that mortal university."

Persephone felt a slight sense of annoyance at hearing him speak of her university like that, but she didn’t reply, because she was used to it: every God thought that about her choice of studying in a mortal university, even her mother.

She sighed and remained on the original speech.

"Speaking of the university, I can understand that it may seem useless to you, but I’d like to graduate anyway. Is there any way possible for La Sapienza to recognize this internship?”

"I'm afraid not. Our agreements with human institutions aren’t so elaborated yet. Conferences are the best we can afford right now. But if it's important to you, you can go to the exams."

Persephone thought about it and realized it would be difficult to go to the surface, for every single exam. Also, it was her fifth year, the last one: she had to write a final thesis and she couldn’t hope to keep in touch with a supervisor from the Underworld. No... she knew, if she had accepted, she would’ve slowed down and perhaps paused her studies. Not that she had time limits to respect, because an immortal Goddess needs no immediate results, six months were nothing. But still she was saddened.

"All right, I'll think about it. And... I should live here in Erebus, right?"

Hades nodded, a lock of black curls falling over his forehead.

"Yes. You are a Goddess, I will have you as my guest here at court, as it is proper."

At that point, even though she had been silent and respectful up to that moment, Demeter intervened, stretching her hands on the table.

"Perhaps it’d be better to leave her some space, in an apartment in the city."

"She will have her space."

"You know what I mean, Hades."

Yes, it was very clear what she meant, to everyone. But Hades had already decided and, for him, every decision was final. So he leaned toward his sister with a face like marble.

"Since when are guests relegated to Dis, Demeter? Have you ever heard I had such a habit?"

"No, but if she has to work for you..."

"No matter what she has to do, she is a Goddess" he sentenced, imperative, "I host her here, as I would host you, or Zeus, or Anubis, or any other Divine. It’s a matter of _respect_ , especially since we are family, although we like to pretend otherwise. She will stay in a court, as it is right for one of ours. And you know I would never violate a duty of hospitality: it _offends_ me thatyou think I would leave her in the city like a common mortal shadow, or worse, that I would take advantage of her while she’s under my roof."

Persephone swallowed a grain in hearing that last specification and it made her cough. Demeter, however, withdrew her hands from the table and brought them to her lap. Now the two Cronids were staring into each other's eyes, in a silent but no less brutal challenge. Eventually, after a frighteningly long time, it was Demeter the first one who looked away.

Persephone was dumbfounded. She wanted to say something, but honestly she didn't know what. Hades was always so frank as to be terrifying. She didn’t doubt his goodwill, but at times it was difficult, really difficult to stay in his presence without being ashamed inside.

Then she stood up abruptly, desiring only to interrupt that small and brutal interpersonal battle between the two Cronids, of which she was the unfortunate object. As at the conference, she said the first thing that came to her mind.

"I should leave for the restroom, where is it?"

She sighed in front of the mirror, trying to recover, enjoying those moments of complete solitude. The Cronids, she thought as she checked the eyeliner, they could really be bulky, when they were together in a single room. Bulky in every sense, physically and mentally.

Persephone pursed her lips, checking the asphodels and the hairstyle, and finally realizing that she had been absent too long. She had to go back.

She left the immense bathroom, black and gold, in which she had been directed. It wasn’t the private one of Hades, but a public one, available for the entire population of the court, along a corridor.

She walked, hearing the noise of the heels that echoed in the large hallway, an ineluctable metronome marking her return to the snake pit. She tried to come up with something to say when she returned, to break the ice and lighten everyone's spirits. Nothing good occurred to her, though, except that the term ‘ _break the ice_ ’was certainly suited to Erebus.

Then she reached the door, still ajar since she had left, and started to enter. Immediately, however, she stopped. She heard the voices of Hades and her mother discussing in a low tone. She decided to wait before opening, so as not to interrupt them, and to hear if they were talking about her. She stayed against the door, waiting.

"... it's not like that" Demeter was saying, " but I don't trust you."

"I know you don't trust me" said Hades, equally low in volume, equally direct, "I also understand the reasons, don't believe otherwise. But I'm not Zeus. You often confuse me with our brother, I’d like to know what I did to deserve it."

"You know very well what you did."

"You can dredge up the matter until the end of times, I don't care. But it's something between you and me, it has nothing to do with Persephone. I don't want to do anything to her, or use her against you, or any aberration you have in mind."

A sigh. Heels noise: Demeter was moving along the room.

"I know. I know you’re a reasonable man. But... _you want her_. You want her, don't you? Talk to me sincerely, look at me in the eyes and tell me you have no ulterior motive."

There was a long break. Heavy silence, which could be said almost physical, with a mass of its own. Persephone held her breath so as not to be heard.

Finally, Hades spoke:

"What do you want to hear? Do you want me to tell you that your daughter doesn't mean anything to me, that she’s unworthy and I would never want her? The gift of certainty isn’t necessary to understand that it would be false. I can't tell you what you want to hear, sister. But I can tell you again that I'm not Zeus. I’d never do something inappropriate, let alone something she doesn’t want."

"I'm not afraid you can attack her, Hades" said Demeter, now in a suffering tone, "I'm afraid you could... mislead her. Erebus stole my brother a long time ago, I don't want it to steal my girl too."

She was suffering. Demeter was really hurt, and Persephone suffered together with her as a result. Perhaps she didn’t know all the history between the two brothers, but by now it was obvious they had been important, and therefore she didn’t want to be angry with her mother for her overprotectiveness. She seemed to have her good reasons. Just… Persephone would’ve liked to show her that she was more mature than she thought.

"Demi" murmured Hades, and it was the first time that Persephone had heard him use a diminutive, something affectionate, "to hurt your daughter, emotionally or physically, is the last thing I want. _I would give up the bident and the regency of Erebus before disrespecting her._ "

Persephone blushed. Well... wow. She had never heard a God say something so serious. She had never known of any God willing to give up power for a woman, certainly. She felt flattered. Not so much for the admission of his emotional interest, because she knew even before of its existence. She felt flattered, though, because Hades was putting aside some of the immense pride of the Cronids: a quite unique event.

"Then swear" Demeter ordered, desperate, "please, I need to hear it."

Persephone leaned forward a little, to have a visual suggestion of what was happening. She felt guilty at eavesdropping, but it was true that they were talking about _her_.Then she silenced the sense of guilt and continued in her work: she looked over the wood of the door. To her great astonishment, she saw that Hades was leaning against the table, half sitting, with crossed feet and a low look, and Demeter in front of him. They were holding hands.

"I swear it on the river Styx, Demeter. May it banish me into unconsciousness for a year, or even a hundred, or for a whole era, if I swear falsely. I will never hurt your daughter, Persephone Kore Soteira."

Demeter put her hand over her mouth, holding back her tears. She had obtained an oath on the Styx. An oath as binding as it was terrible.

She cried, then, and suddenly embraced her brother, squeezing hard. Hades returned, sighing too, and they both seemed smaller than they were. They looked young. They looked like children again.

"Thank you, _Aidoneus_."

* * *

_**Queen Persephone on the Stygian Shores, my last photomanipulation. Just a little extra for you!  
I** **was trying to represent a more "emotionally mature" Persie, a century old, keeping herself healthy and tonic with cold baths in the Styx. Check my Deviantart, I'm @LunarMorrigan.**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi mortals! Sorry for the delay: this was a long chapter and I was keeping my graphic service on wattpad open, so it was a week full of photoshop and nothing else xD Talking about it, if you want to take a look to my Deviantart (I'm @LunarMorrigan), you can find my last manipulation of Persephone on the Styx and other stuff like that. 
> 
> Now, now, about the chapter! I just wanted to give some little explainations on my poetic licences:  
> \- I choose to modernize the Underworld and, to do it, I replaced the Asphodel Meadows with the City of Dis, which is actually invented by Dante Alighieri in his Inferno. Anyway, I thought it was fitting, for Dante has taken inspirations from Virgilius' Aeneid. The name itself, "Dis", comes from "Dis Pater", which is another title of Hades.  
> \- I still wanted to keep those poor asphodels, so on Persephone's head they go! xD  
> \- Aidoneus is the original name of Hades. Since it was the first one he had as a child, he and Demeter consider it like an affectionate nickname, as Kore is for Persephone.  
> \- Swaering on the Styx is a serious and dangerous oath, even for the Gods. If they were lying and they drank the water of the river, they would slip into a coma for a year, and then be banished from the Symposia for other nine years.
> 
> That's all, mortals! Thank you for reading and all your comments, love ya! *.*


	9. The Court of Courts

It’s difficult to be a woman, in every age, in every social condition. Above all, it was difficult to be a Goddess of the Classical Pantheon. Persephone knew it very well, she had had the opportunity to realize it in those years. She couldn’t deny that being born with the others would’ve been worse: another era, much more common and justified violence, and the total disparity of treatment between the two sexes when it came to positions of power. For example, the eldest of the Cronids was Hestia, and then in order were born Demeter and Hera: each of them older than the male brothers. But anyway, when the creation had been divided into three parts, three kings had been crowned, not queens. In a world like that, Persephone knew it, Hades could’ve abducted her for real, and she couldn't have said or done anything in her own defense. Once he had married her and taken her virginity by force, she would’ve been his consort for ever and ever.

So, yes, being born millennia before would’ve been worse. In that new era, even the Gods had evolved, and now Persephone didn’t have to fear forced marriages or kidnappings. But anyway, she couldn’t even say it was easy being a woman. She felt the same discrimination, and it was everywhere, though more subtle: she could see it in Zeus, flirting with any breathing female creature, without any respect for Hera; she could see it in their clothing, in Aphrodite obliged to go around half-naked and almost always silent, because no one really listened to her; and, although she didn’t like to admit it, she also could see discrimination in Hades and Demeter, who were speaking about her future, without questioning her; and finally she could see discrimination in herself, because she remained silent, even when she knew she would’ve had to intervene.

For this reason, she gathered her courage and decided to enter the room. She threw open the door and slipped inside without waiting any longer, trying to keep her head high without looking angry. Because, after all, she wasn't. She knew that both Hades and Demeter were well-meaning; but, as the saying goes, the road paved with good intentions certainly doesn’t lead to heaven.

"Mom, I decided." She ruled, quiet but categorical, while Demeter hastily pulled away from the embrace with her brother.

"What... what, honey?"

"I want to do this internship. I'm interested, I'm curious. I think it's a great opportunity for me. I'm sorry that this is not what you had in mind for my future, but that's what I want to do."

She saw Demeter swallow, still with a hint of tears at the corners of her eyes. She said nothing, though, and looked at her daughter with a look half defeated and half proud.

"And, Hades, I'm really grateful for your hospitality, but..."

She saw him suddenly straighten, putting his hands back in his pockets and neutralizing his gaze. Now more than ever, pale, immobile, immense in his stature, he looked like a stone statue, impossible to decipher in intentions or emotions.

"Persephone" he began, quiet but inflexible, "I’ve said the truth, I would offer the same hospitality to any God, of any Pantheon."

"I know, I'm sure. But anyway, I’d like to receive the same treatment as the other interns."

But Hades was staring at her, even more serious than before. Suddenly, Persephone began to feel dizzy. A penetrating certainty was now crowding her mind. The total, ineluctable sureness that Hades was offering her hospitality because of her role as a Goddess and because of etiquette, and not for having her at his mercy.

He was using his power.

"They will never accept you on Olympus if you’re the first one avoiding what suits your status."

He was blunt, direct, as usual. But Persephone was as well, and she didn’t regret it:

"I just want to earn my status, is it so strange?"

He kept staring at her, his black and white eyes wide open, never blinking and never moving from their target. In the end, he had to convince himself of her determination and intentions, because he stopped being urgent.

"Your choice, I can't force you."

He didn’t agree with her, nor continued to insist. He respected her choice, and that to Persephone was enough.

Since the decision had been made, the preparation was short. Persephone had to return to the surface to pack her things and to say goodbye to her mother and her friends, above all Caterina, who was preparing to face a lonely academic semester. After years spent together despairing about exams, helping each other during internships, they would now be alone. 

Persephone didn’t allow herself to be too sad, however, promising herself to text and call her loved ones every day. Therefore, after only three days of preparation, wondering if she would have missed the sun, Persephone got in the black car that had come to pick her up. She then descended into the Underworld for the second time, at the beginning of autumn, leaving behind her semi-mortal life.

She still didn't know it would be forever.

When she arrived in Erebus, it was late evening. She remained astonished for the second time by the ethereal and shimmering light. Dining in that car, she looked from the promontory and saw again the Styx, dark and quiet, like a black silk ribbon rolled out in nine terrible and magnificent bends.

When she arrived at Hades’ palace, like the first time, he was there waiting for her. Even at first glance, when she identified him from the window, Persephone realized he was in a good mood. As soon as the car stopped, he approached to open the door for her. Persephone remembered to let him do it this time.

"Divine Persephone, looking more beautiful every day."

He offered her the hand to get out and Persephone accepted it with a smile. When she was on her feet, she adjusted her beige coat.

"From now on I’m your employee: perhaps we should change the appellations, your majesty."

"How should I call you, _Intern Persephone_?"

The young woman chuckled, happy to be there even though anxious, as it was right facing a whole new reality.

"In the other internships I did in the courts, they usually called me _hey, you, come here_."

This time it was Hades who widened a sarcastic smile, a little disturbing to tell the truth.

"Humans? If you give me their names, I’ll take them personally in Tartarus."

Persephone held her gaze with a playful attitude as she let herself be led away from the car.

"A bit exaggerated as revenge. I thought you were the most righteous among the Gods, your majesty."

"It's not exaggerated, and it's not revenge. First lesson, Divine Persephone: disrespect for a deity is a very serious crime, it’s called _hybris._ Keep this in mind when you need to judge your cases. Why do you think it's so bad?"

Hades was a calm and slow man, but he didn't like to waste time, and now he was showing it: Persephone had just got out of the car and he was already questioning her. The Goddess didn't know how to feel about it. In reality she was just too at ease in the presence of the King. Perhaps she should have started to be more reverential?

"Ahm... because if they believe they can challenge us and go unpunished, then they don't fear us, I suppose."

"Exactly. And if humans don’t fear the Gods, they rebel. And if they rebel, it’s total war, the end of everything, the apocalypse, as the monotheists call it. And excuse me, Persephone, but I took part in the Titanomachy as a war, and it’s enough."

"You’re very logical, my King. But you miss half measures, let me tell you."

He emitted a tight-lipped sound, partly amused and partly as an admission of guilt.

"And that's why I need you here, Divine. I’m sure your point of view will be very useful to me."

Persephone was unable to hold back a smile, as she wondered if he was saying it just to impress her, or if having a second point of view really was his only goal, since he had first proposed her the internship. If she had to be completely sincere to herself, no, Persephone didn’t believe a millenary being like Hades capable of saying such a thing just to flirt. He seemed sincere. And in the future, she would’ve had the confirmation: Hades, besides being _always_ honest, was also a God who took his job very seriously. He would never have offered her an internship if he wasn't sure she deserved it, and he certainly would never have wanted her in his courtroom just to take her to bed, as he had said on the phone with Demeter. In this respect, therefore, Persephone could feel safe: when he talked about work, he was always, _always_ professional.

"Ascalaphus will bring the luggage to your apartment" the God announced, pulling back his black curls, longer than usual, "I know it's late, but this would be the best time for a tour, since the court is empty. Or are you too tired?"

"No, that's fine! I'm curious!"

"That’s the spirit."

And he offered her his arm, formal and impeccable as usual.

Once inside, like a few days before, Persephone found the corridors enormous, eternal and deserted. Once again, she was lost in admiring the bas-reliefs, the high ceilings, the polished floors. Meanwhile, she was holding firmly to Hades' elbow, still too high for her. She knew she was slowing him down, compared to his usual gait. Each of his strides corresponded to three of Persephone’s.

Finally, the view opened onto the last corridor and they found themselves in a room so large that it made the Cronid look tiny.

It had the features of a rectangular temple. The floor was in black, polished obsidian, decorated with gold veins. On the sides of the room, dark columns with Corinthian capitals. At the top, the exposed and majestic roof was in made of glass: it was possible to admire the much higher ceiling of the cave, studded with diamonds. There was no furniture, except for wooden benches, a small humble podium, which had to be the place for the judged souls. And, in front, raised by a dozen steps, the center of everything: the throne of Erebus.

It was majestic yet humble, essential, without any decorative element. Made of pure gray and angular stone, without even a pillow, it gave the idea of being cold, hard, extremely uncomfortable.

"Is that your place?"

"It is."

He led her to the throne, without getting lost in self-congratulatory chatter, even though Persephone knew he was proud of it. Their footsteps echoed in the infinity of the courtroom as they ascended the steps.

Hades brought her closer and signaled her to explore, because she was allowed. Persephone stepped forward, but all she could do was touch the back of the seat, shy, with only a couple of fingers. She felt deeply unworthy of even being on the same level, she would’ve preferred to stay a few steps down. The sense of awe that the granite throne and its owner could give off was powerful.

"I sit here during the hearings" said Hades, peaceful , always in control, "over there, on those three smaller seats, there are the other three judges: Minos, Aeacus and Rhadamanthys. You 'll know them tomorrow."

"Do you decide all together?"

"No, I usually let them issue a sentence. They’re well balanced, I chose them myself. However, if I believe they haven’t made the right decision, or if I disagree, I will intervene."

Persephone walked around the throne, still touching it. Strangely, it was as if keeping her fingers on it was a need.

"And all the souls go through this court? Aren't they too many?"

"No, in fact, not everyone comes here. I and the three judges deal only with the most complicated cases. There are other minor courtrooms, for less problematic souls. And that's where you’ll work, Divine. Most of the cases are quickly dealt with, but if one of the smaller courtrooms finds it difficult to decide, it can remit the decision to me and the three major judges. Very simple."

"As a kind of appeal."

"Yes, with the difference that souls can’t appeal, only the minor judges."

Persephone frowned. She gave him an oblique look, undecided whether to allow herself to start debating already. But, as always, she found him so docile and calm that she felt entitled to proceed.

"Ever thought to allow souls to appeal to you directly? They could consider the sentence of the minor judges wrong."

Hades sighed. He put his hands in his pockets and gave her an oblique look back, as if he were imitating her. His pale complexion seemed to glow like alabaster, in contrast to all that obscure obsidian.

"What you need to understand, Divine, is that here the truth has a completely different weight compared to a human trial. Souls cannot lie in Erebus, and even if they tried, I would extort the truth from them in less than a blink. It’s never a question of evaluating guilt and innocence, because the shadows already know they are guilty or innocent, and none of them will ever deny their faults. Our job isn’t to accuse or absolve, our job is to _sort._ We know what souls have done in life, they can't hide it. But we must consider how to treat them for the rest of eternity. This is why souls will always accept whatever you decide for them, even a too harsh punishment, because if you tell them they deserve it, they will believe you. We don't need appeals, because no soul would ever think of appealing, and going against what you've decided."

Persephone was dumbfounded, still doubtful.

"Well, it's terrible. The responsibility is even bigger. It means that every time you need to make sure you make the right decision."

Hades, patient and relaxed, narrowed his eyes a little and gave a bitter laugh. He too approached the throne, leaned on it with a slender hand. He seemed to love it and hate it at the same time.

"Never said that the throne of Erebus was simple to manage."

They went down the stairs again, immersed in total silence, accompanied only by their own breaths. It was Persephone, curious as and more than when she arrived, to break the void with other questions:

"And where are the souls sorted?"

Hades looked down at her, and Persephone felt herself pierced by those eyes contrary to any law of biology.

"I talked about it at the conference. You should’ve stayed focused."

Persephone shot him a sudden look and found him amused, not reproachful. But she hurried to explain anyway.

"I was focused" she assured, "I was just wondering if there wasn't more. _Surely you didn’t revealed all your Mysteries to all that mortality, I hope, Divine Hades._ "

He chuckled. It was his way of sincerely laughing, never exaggerated, never too loud. But he was really amused by Persephone's way of resuming his words at the conference, and it took him a while to settle down. When he did, without further comment, he answered the original question:

"There are three destinies we can bestow. The guilty souls will go to Tartarus. Neutral souls, those who have been neither cruel nor worthy in life, and are the most part, can stay here in the city of Dis and live a second life, similar to the previous. It’s not a prize but it’s not even a punishment. Finally, the worthy souls go to the Elysian Fields. But it will be clearer to you when you’ll see some hearings, don't worry. The first few weeks I would just like you to witness, no pressure."

Persephone shrugged excitedly.

"The Elysian Fields!" she exclaimed, and the narcissus corollas scattered in her brown curls invigorated, became more aromatic than ever, "Poets speak of them, they must be wonderful!"

At that point, Hades spread a smile, proud and sweet. He looked at her carefully and his aquiline nose didn't look as severe as usual.

"I’ll take you there as soon as possible, Divine, I promise, and I’ll show you the splendid waters of the Lethe. I am sure you’ll feel at home."

Persephone squeezed his arm playfully.

"Don't worry, I 'm not already a victim of nostalgia."

"But I fear you will be" he replied, frank, neutral, "nothing grows here, and you are a Goddess of fertility. I'll be honest: if... if by chance you feel trapped... tell me, okay?"

He hesitated in speaking. It was strange to hear him like that. Usually, he issued just short, dry sentences, that did not allow replies. In a sense, it was reassuring to see him unsure from time to time.

But Persephone was quiet and looked at him with sincere eyes, conveying to him all the confidence she was capable of.

"My King, don't worry. I'm glad to be here. The only thing I can tell you is that I can't wait to get started."

Hades laughed softly, like the light wail of distant earthquakes.

"For that you'll have to wait tomorrow. By the way, do you have a peplum?"

The young Goddess pursed her lips, guilty.

"I don’t, sorry. I 've never had any."

"The hearings are held in classic clothes. But it doesn’t matter, I 'll let you have one tomorrow."

Suddenly, Persephone remembered the agreement they had made in the gelateria, the one about the obligation to accept a gift when he offered it. Then she giggled and challenged him as they walked out of the great hall.

"Should it be that gift you wanted to give me, your majesty?"

"No" he replied, coldly, before she even finished asking the question, "when that gift comes, trust me, you'll know. A peplum isn’t that valuable. Take it as if it were a uniform. Job requirements."

Persephone raised her eyebrows, pretending to be resentful.

Hades, before leaving, tried to offer her something to drink, and Persephone knew that it was a way of trying to make her stay for the night. Not in a sexual meaning: he just wanted to let it become late enough, and then propose her to stay and sleep in the wing of diplomatic guests. Old smartass. But Persephone refused politely and asked if the tour was over, if she could go and see the apartment. Hades agreed and accompanied her.

Once in the car, it took only a few minutes to get to the designated place: they had chosen an apartment near the palace, so she could walk her way easily. Also, Hades wouldn’t have gone so far as to relegate her to the other side of the city.

During the ride, Persephone couldn’t see much, but noticed that Dis, apart from the colder lighting and the less _alive_ inhabitants, was not very different from a mortal city. Only, it was perfect. Very clean, impeccable, paved roads and without a hole. It looked like the platonically ideal version of a city on the surface.

They arrived in a very short time and pulled over. As announced, Ascalaphus had already carried the luggage home, and Persephone was happy to find them there. Accompanied by a skeptical Hades, she fumbled with the keys and entered.

It was a modern place. Essential, simple, with light and glossy furniture. There were a couch, a flat-screen television, a kitchenette and a humble bedroom, divided only by a decorative wall in paper, retractable, in Japanese style.

Persephone immediately felt at home.

"It's perfect!" She exclaimed.

In response, Hades raised an eyebrow, more and more doubtful, annoyed by having to bend over so as not to hit the ceiling.

"It’s _humble_."

He managed to put such cold disdain into those words that the windows almost froze.

"It suits me. I’ll decorate it and you’ll see, it’ll be fantastic!"

Hades wasn’t convinced at all, and if he was _certain_ of hating a house that had deprived him of a guest, then he would’ve hated it forever. But to Persephone, to be honest, it didn't matter. She was really grateful for the hospitality, but it was better that way. It was a more suitable environment for the life she was used to. She would never have been comfortable with an entire wing in a palace, she would’ve felt out of place, and then yes, she would’ve been homesick right away. Perhaps Hades couldn’t understand that: he couldn’t comprehend the concept of having _less_ materially in order to have _more_ emotionally.

"Please, allow me." He said suddenly, and Persephone realized that he was offering to help her take off her coat.

"Oh, sure..."

He took it off her shoulders, then, with studied slowness and elegance. Persephone noticed that he hesitated, just a couple of seconds, touching her neck with his thumbs. She felt goosebumps on her skin because of those cold fingers running down her neck like drops of ice water. She held her breath, excited, and never hid that she liked it.

But Hades didn’t allow himself any more: he took off her coat completely and hung it on the rack in front of the door, impeccably.

Persephone broadened a nervous smile. She decided to tease him and, joking, she returned to formal speaking:

"Thou have very cold hands, my King."

"And thou a very hot neck."

He had said it naturally, yet at the same time with a hidden passion, which suggested that perhaps the God of the Underworld wasn’t so cold... not in all aspects of his life, at least. Persephone felt a grip on her stomach and didn't dare to fight back, because she felt both cheeks and flowers redden.

Cowards, flowers. They always had to betray her.

Hades had to notice, because now he was looking at her with a cheeky smile. But he was too polite to point it out, because, for the umpteenth time, he was a gentleman.

"I should go now" he proclaimed gallant, though he let it be understood that he would’ve liked to stay, "Good night, Divine Persephone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it me or Erebus is getting unexpectedly hot? 😏


	10. The Inexorable

Late. Persephone was always late.

Even when she swore to herself that no, this time she would wake up on time and would do things slowly, she always ended up being in a hurry. All times, of course, she swore that it wasn’t her fault. That October morning, in Erebus, she blamed the absence of sunlight.

She slipped off the bed just half an hour before her first day of work. She dressed as fast as possible, picking something up randomly from the suitcases, still closed since the night before, then she got out quickly. She ran through the streets, thanking for once the cold climate, keeping her from sweating. When she arrived at the court, she walked up the main entrance stairway missing some steps. Finally she was inside, out of breath, her long hair all scruffy. That day, her head was decorated with dark green ivy; not that she always chose the plants that grew in her hair, sometimes they chose on their own.

The courtroom seemed quite different from the night before. There was such a crowd that it was difficult to make room for walking. For the most part they were shadows of deceased souls; recognizable because, even though they were made of flesh and bones in all respects, they seemed devoid of color, both in the complexion and in the clothing: gray people, with no saturation, almost _blurred_ in the environment. They had all just arrived from the Styx and were very confused. Some of them weren’t even aware of being dead yet.

Persephone tried to ignore them and not to give too much importance to what she saw, not to think about the fact that there were also so many children in there: she couldn’t get sad the first five minutes of work. So, she tried to make her way, holding her purse tightly and catching her breath.

And finally, in a corner she saw an unmistakable group of people: the other interns. It was impossible not to recognize them, because they looked as disoriented as her and they were all together, like a herd. The races and ethnicities were the most disparate: there were Germanic sylphs, blonde, thin and very beautiful; small fluttering faes; and, finally, the only coming from the Classical Pantheon: two nymphs with olive-colored skin and tall, pointed ears, ready to pick up any noise, like deers. The interns were almost all women, dressed in white pepla. The only one in modern dress was Persephone, who had arrived late and hadn’t had enough time to intercept Hades or any other person to ask where she could find one.

The Goddess sighed and approached. The group looked at her with simultaneous interest.

"Hi everyone!" She introduced herself smiling, "This is the internship group, isn't it?"

They nodded and welcomed her with enthusiasm, especially the faes: so small, it was said, they could contain just one emotion at a time. The last to greet were the two nymphs. The one with the most olive-colored skin and mahogany hair, which Persephone understood to be called Orphne, smiled in an impertinent way and seemed to have little control over her ears, which moved continuously and independently of each other. Well, Persephone, with her crown of rebellious flowers, didn’t feel like criticize her.

"Another woman" commented Orphn , with an eyebrow raised in disapproval, "I’m less and less in doubt as to why our beloved Lord has put together this project."

Persephone didn’t know what to say. She shrugged her shoulders, pursed her lips, while the second nymph was making an unfortunate joke about the excessive difference in size between Hades and the Celtic faes, and the consequent intercourse difficulties.

Persephone widened her eyes and laughed nervously, because she didn't know what else to do.

"Uh, actually" she broke in, trying to put them down, " I think Hades’ favourite occupation is work, not sex."

And she was telling the truth. Maybe she wasn't a major Goddess, but she liked to believe she could understand people, and Hades didn't seem like the kind of man to be _distracted_ by women. He didn't even have courtesans or official concubines, and it would’ve been his right, so there was only one alternative: Hades' biggest drug had to be his job.

But Orphne and her friend took it as the joke that it wasn't and they laughed. Orphne threw back her ears, amused.

"Maybe that's why he can't keep a wife!"

Persephone no longer commented, because she was familiar with the nymphs, and knew that they could become too exuberant. She stayed on her own, then, waiting for the day to start. She had brought her recorder and she prepared it, so as not to miss a moment of that first morning.

And finally, extremely punctual, Hades made his entrance.

He came from a side door, followed by the other three judges. He was the most majestic. He seemed even taller, but Persephone knew it was just an impression, due to the fact that he was holding up the long rod of the bident, symbol of his power, pointing towards the diamond ceiling of Erebus.

Persephone remained motionless, suddenly struck, out of place, feeling like she was in front of a completely different person than the one she had known. Moreover, he was in traditional clothes: he was wearing a chiton, and doing it marvelously. 

It was black, made of heavy velvet, down to the feet according to the Ionic style. It draped his important figure in a thousand folds, fixed on the right shoulder with a golden fibula. The other shoulder, along with the arm, was left uncovered, regardless of the cold. The waxy skin was in stark contrast to the dark fabric and its own veins, which stood out a little too bluish, along the sculpted muscles.

What most astonished Persephone, however, was his hair: not curly and short, as she had seen them up to that moment, but long, straight. So dark, they framed his pointed jaw and gave him an even more severe, grim, aquiline attitude.

Only at that moment, seeing him so dressed, Persephone realized how _ancient_ he reallywas _._ He looked like a cutout from a bygone era, a photo of an old newspaper stuck on a too modern background. Something that shouldn't have been there, but that couldn't have been anywhere else.

As soon as he made his entrance, in great strides, the silence fell in the court. The souls bowed, placing both hands on the ground, and no one ever dared to look him in the eyes. Persephone, as he passed by, wondered if she should do it too, or whether on the contrary it would’ve appeared like a stupid gesture on her part (if not, knowing him, perhaps even _disrespectful_ , because the etiquette didn’t include bowing by the female deities). Then she quickly checked the other interns and saw that they had simply lowered their heads, still standing. She decided to do the same.

Hades walked past her, almost touched her, but did nothing. He didn't even look at her. Later Persephone would’ve understood that, during the hearings, he suddenly became that omniscient being without any emotion that, on all other occasions, emerged only as a partial percentage of his character. But no, when he brought the bident he was no longer Hades, the man Persephone would learn to love: he was _the Inexorable_ , the afterlife itself embodied. There was nothing left in his eyes, for better or for worse: there were no personal grudges, just as there was no passions; there were no friendships, sympathies, dislikes, relationships. No pity, no revenge. Nothing. Only the hearing.

He climbed the steps to the throne, neither in a hurry nor slow. Neutral. Like everything he did, he was always balanced, just like a well-sentenced judgment. When he sat down, he did it with such a royal pride that Persephone, in comparison, felt like a child and wondered what she was doing there, why she hadn't chosen the path of flowers, of Demeter, of the sun, of the Spring. It was almost possible for her to count all the years of that major God in front of her, all three hundred thousand, in his eyes pointed straight ahead and in his powerful shoulders; while she, on the contrary , couldn’t help but keep her head down, like everyone else in there.

She suddenly realized that it would’ve been very difficult to work with him, or even have the audacity to utter a word in his presence. She wondered how the hell she did at the conference, how could she ask such a creature those questions, so insistently. She neve would’ve been able to do it again.

For the first time, she didn’t deny it, she was _afraid_ of Hades. Not for what he did, or for how he behaved, but for what he conveyed: such neutrality that he didn't give the slightest hope of getting emotionally close to him. He didn't even seem alive, or thinking: hoping to get mercy from him would’ve been like hoping to get it from a mountain. He seemed like a calculation, a mathematical operation. And then Persephone understood why the mortals didn’t worship him, she understood why there were no temples dedicated to him. She realized she was facing one of the foundations of the universe. And, like the first time she had looked into his eyes, she felt a part of her immortality die forever.

The morning passed very quietly, which gave Persephone time to recover and regain a minimum of self-esteem. But it was difficult under the gaze of a Cronid, ranging everything, ever judging. And she wasn’t the only one to suffer the effects, given that the other interns barely dared to raise their eyes from the notebooks on which they were taking notes.

The very first hearing to which Persephone witnessed was in all likelihood also the most grotesque that had ever been seen in that courtroom: a woman, guilty of having cheated on her husband, had died _in flagrante delicto_ and therefore she had presented herself in the Underworld naked from the waist down. Persephone didn’t envy her fate at all: to appear half-naked and obviously guilty in front of the Judge of Judges must have been terrifying. But Hades didn’t look at her with interest. He stared at her neutral, as one could stare at an inanimate object. Uninterested in her nudity because he was working, but also because she was a human, and the God had repeatedly proved to be very selective with regard to social status.

The woman showed up at the bench trying to pull her shirt down, leaning forward in an attempt to hide her genitals. The judges decided almost immediately: Rhadamanthys, the most severe, proposed one hundred years of Tartarus, and then the chance to return to the city of Dis. Aeacus, on the other hand, intervened in favor of the woman, whose case had been judged complex and presented directly to them because she had done much charity in her life: her good deeds, in quantity, equaled the gravity of her cheating.

In the end, the judges came to an agreement: twenty- five years of Tartarus, and then access to Dis. Hades didn’t interfere, he said nothing. He just raised delicate a hand from the throne’s granite armrest, confirming the sentence in complete silence. It was unbelievable: even the fact that he said nothing, that he did not impose harsher punishments, inspired fear. Persephone felt overwhelmed by the amount of _certainty_ he transmitted. He only needed to look at a soul and it was as if he had pierced it from side to side, as if he knew all about their life, their choices, their most unmentionable secrets.

It proceeded like this most of the morning: the souls showed up at the bench and were judged by the three judges, rarely there was disagreement between them. Hades remained in complete silence for hours.

He spoke only once. 

A rather young-looking man approached the wooden podium. He kept his eyes bent, but he looked more guilty than anyone else.

"What are your sins, mortal?" Asked Aeacus, the same identical request he made to all the souls.

"I killed my father, I pushed him down the stairs five years ago." The man’s shadow answered, without hesitation, without hiding anything, because it would’ve been useless.

Given the swift and certain confession, as well as the confirmation of the Moirai who knew all the events of the whole life of all those present, the three judges immediately agreed: a thousand years of Tartarus.

The shadow was about to go away, without saying a word, without protesting. Persephone was already changing pages in the notebook to write down the next hearing, but suddenly the court sank in a strange kind of immobility. No one moved or spoke: Hades hadn’t confirmed the sentence.

He was still sitting on the throne, but he was no longer relaxed on the backrest: he had leaned forward, interested. Now he was staring at the man’s soul, unrelenting.

"Look at me, mortal."

Those were the first, lapidary words he spoke that morning.

The shadow of the man timidly raised his eyes and met those of the Inexorable. He tried to bear his gaze, to hold on to all the certainty he transmitted, while Hades looked at him neutral, peering into his soul.

"I remember your father" he expressed himself after whole minutes of immobility, "five years ago he came before this court and obtained the bliss of the Elysian Fields."

"I'm... happy for him" the man admitted, "after what I did to him, he earned them."

"Yes. But I remember something else: the cause of death was a congenital cardiac illness, not the fall."

The shadow, at that point, looked down again. He shook his head, convinced.

"No, I killed him, I pushed him down the stairs."

"Sure, you pushed him. But you didn't kill him."

At that point Hades leaned back again. He sighed, his chest as powerful and proud as a bellows, and pronounced his verdict.

"One hundred years of Tartarus, just for the criminal intention. Thus I decided."

He reduced his punishment, but he didn’t seem charitable, or somehow merciful: he seemed fair, objective, indifferent. And no one dared to reply, nor the shadow, nor the judges, nor the Moirai in their black and white pepla. No one. So it had been sentenced, and the whole universe had to adjust.

When the morning ended, Persephone felt tired, even older. Everything had been really... strange. Interesting, yes, but so different from what she was used to... maybe she just had to give herself time.

That’s what she was thinking, as she walked exhausted to the exit, undecided whether to go home for lunch or to explore some diner in Dis. Unfortunately, the other interns hadn’t talked about going out together, so she hadn't imposed herself: she had the feeling that the cultural differences between them were still too strong.

She sighed as she put away the notebook and turned off the recorder.

Then, sudden, his unmistakable, deep and ghostly voice.

"Divine Persephone, good morning."

Persephone got scared, feeling him just behind her. It was an involuntary gesture: she had jumped a little, slamming her shoulder against the main door, which she was about to open at that moment.

She turned wide-eyed, embarrassed.

"Oh, my… your majesty!"

Hades was behind her and now looking at her in amazement, with his thick, slightly furrowed eyebrows. He was still dressed in the black chiton, the long hair of a silky smoothness, but he didn't have the bident with him: it was lying abandoned on the throne to signal the pause.

"Persephone, are you all right?" He asked, worried.

"Oh" she breathed out, nervous, feeling stupid for that reaction, "yes, everything... all right, I was just... thinking."

"Definitely I gave you plenty of material on which to think."

Persephone recognized that phrase as a joke, even though, as usual, the God lacked comic timing.

"Yes, uh... it was very interesting."

But he tilted his head a little and looked at her anxiously from head to toe.

"You look upset."

Well, he was blunt for sure, he wasn’t the kind of person who beats around the bush.

Persephone broadened her smile, trying to minimize. She put a lock of hair behind her ear and tried to concentrate.

"It's all right. I’m just anxious for my first day, you know..."

But he looked into her eyes without blinking. Persephone knew he knew, so she stopped fighting. She expected some sort of sarcasm on his part, even if elegant. And instead, he never pointed out her weaknesses: he smiled politely and lowered his head a little. Persephone thought he was doing it to shrink, aware of his own intimidating appearance.

" _It's still me_."

He didn't say anything else. He didn’t explain his reasons, he didn’t reassure her with a thousand words, nor did he expose the problem. Because he already knew what the problem was, he already knew he seemed _too inexorable_ , different from how she had known him until then. He knew what she was fearing and didn’t consider her stupid.

Persephone breathed a sigh, suddenly freed of a pressing weight on her chest. She thanked him with her eyes and felt calm. She was much better: suddenly, she thought she had found the normal man she had met at the conference. Not the ruthless millenarian God.

Hades didn’t insist on the subject any further. He did nothing but offer her his arm, as he had done so many other times, on that occasion without a sleeve due to the features of the chiton. Persephone smiled, accepted and clung to him, feeling their skins in direct contact. He was solid in the musculature, smooth, cold more than the winter itself. He felt like a statue.

"May I briefly distract you from your lunch break?” He asked, "I promised you a peplum."


	11. Purple is the color of the Gods

Hades was undoubtedly a difficult man to love. Persephone was feeling it since the first time they had met, but she had the ultimate proof that day, as she walked arm in arm with him through his palace.

She understood it by how the others looked at him, how they moved as he passed, always leaving a bubble of a few feet around him. And no one looked at him in the eyes, which, if nothing else, explained his fear of showing them in public, forcing him to wear his glasses on the surface and making him insecure in staring directly at Persephone. But there was more: he was causing a real stampede. In fact, as Hades and Persephone walked among the most important court officers, close collaborators, everyone greeted the King with as much respect as fear, without ever approaching or establishing a dialogue. Persephone could and couldn’t understand them at the same time.

She could understand them because she too had felt intimidated, especially now that Hades had those ancient features, and she knew that they reaction could instinctive. Beyond that, though, no, she didn't understand them. Because Hades had never done anything, actually, to deserve that fear. He had never, in all of history, declared war, set up personal revenges, killed someone or hatched plots – each of these, abundant flaws in his brothers’ curricula. He had never betrayed, disrespected, tried to subvert the rules, threatened someone, used violence, guided his entire boundless army of souls against another God. On the contrary, he had lived his eternity offering hospitality, subscribing agreements and granting favors.

So, where did all that fear come from? Just from the fact that he was usually so silent, that his emotions were difficult to interpret, not to mention dubious in their very existence?

Maybe. Maybe he himself fueled that solitude. Maybe he believed he needed it, so as not to be considered somewhat less regal. Persephone didn’t know, but she knew for certain that, though perhaps encouraged by the same God, that isolation _did not_ please him.

She was sure of it. There were so many motivations that made her think so: if he had been so comfortable on his own, he wouldn’t have come to look for her at lunch, almost teleporting himself off the throne; if he had been happy not to have anyone, he wouldn't have invited her there, he wouldn't have accompanied her personally during the tour; in fact, he wouldn't even have accepted her invitation to drink coffee on the day of the conference, because there were ways to refuse which wouldn’t have made him sound rude at all. Perhaps it was just sexual interest, as Demeter seemed to imply?

Again, maybe. Maybe.

But then why the first thing Persephone saw in his office was the white narcissus she had given him to wear as buttonhole, with the stem rolled up to a pen holder?

She entered with fear, in fact, as he held the door open, and she immediately identified the flower: it was the only bright object in that dark, antiseptic, cold and essential office. Indeed, one could even say that it was the only _useless_ thing, which was there just for aesthetics, because otherwise there wasn’t the slightest decoration. Just a large room, with a large desk, an even larger black leather chair.

The Goddess approached at the glass desk, a little too high for her. As she soon would’ve learned the hard way, everything in Hades’ palace, especially in his private areas, was aptly suited to his proportions: Persephone couldn’t help but feel like Alice in Wonderland, which had bitten a mushroom and then had shrunken, facing a world too large for her.

"My King, I see something familiar." She teased, smiling, looking at him with an allusive smile towards the narcissus flower.

He entered, closed the door. He couldn’t hide a slight embarrassment.

"I noticed it doesn’t wither." He justified himself, trying to pass on that semi-scientific explanation as the one and only reason he had kept it.

"I made it, it’ll _never_ wither!" Persephone boasted, jokingly, trying to warm the feelings of the God of the dead, always so in need to shake down after a lonely night. Or, at the very least, Persephone _assumed_ he had been alone. And if it wasn’t so, it must have been a not so edifying experience, given his mood.

She pursed her lips and tried not to think of Hades sleeping with someone, because she was sure she would laugh. She also tried not to look at him directly, because by now she knew that his subtle power could unmask any dirty thought. As if the ivy in her head, which was turning red, wasn’t enough.

She reached the desk and touched the white corolla of the narcissus, to distract herself.

"If you want, I can make something better. A bouquet, so you can display a proper vase."

Hades joined her and spread a light, calm smile.

"I can hear the echo of gossip already."

"I thought you didn't care."

He didn't care about gossip, but he certainly cared to appear cold and above all immutable, like all Gods. The idea he could suddenly fill the palace with flowers wasn’t contemplated, and Persephone knew it. She understood it from a certain point of view.

Yet he again found a way to amaze her. He leaned against his desk, sighed and cuddled that flower with his eyes, suggesting that for him it had much more meaning than he wanted to admit.

"If I have to be completely honest, Divine Persephone, it’s precisely its uniqueness that makes it the most precious object I have ever owned."

Persephone's eyes widened in surprise. She straightened up, raised her head and found him, as usual, serious and pragmatic. It seemed that he had just expressed a fact, it didn’t seem a concession or a compliment. Sometimes she even wondered if he realized he could please people, with those statements.

"It's... it's just a flower."

"It's your gift. It’s worth."

She was flattered, of course, but it seemed strange to her that he considered it so much. If she had wanted to give him a present, she would’ve tried to do something better, she wouldn’t have made just a single narcissus, born as a joke.

"Your majesty, certainly it’s worth less than the smallest of your diamonds."

"Here diamonds are unlimited" he replied, cold, sincere, "instead, there’s only one living flower and it’s on my desk. The way I see it, I’m twice as rich, ever since you gave me that gift. Thank you."

Persephone shook her head and blushed, sure that by now the ivy in her hair was purple. That was how she learned another aspect of Hades: the value he gave to small things. Precisely because he was hugely rich, it was impossible to amaze him on material value. But he would’ve never, _for all eternity_ , failed to appreciate a gift from Persephone. He would’ve jealously preserved every single flower, every greeting card, and he would’ve received even a breakfast served in bed as the most precious of acts.

"Well, you’re welcome" Persephone gave in, and as always she made the most out-of-place joke she could think of, "if quibbling over the economic value of a narcissus is your way of courting me, believe me, it's working."

They laughed together and finally the Inexorable, with his tunic and long hair, let out a _lively_ expression.

"I had already noticed it by the color of your beautiful ivy, Divine Persephone. You don't need to reassure me about my courting." He teased her.

"Um, I know. Traitors, plants. And unfair as well, don't you think? I show my emotions anyway, the ivy would be more useful on _your_ head. It would be easier to decipher you."

He was still laughing, his eyes with black sclera thinned into an expression of real amusement.

"I find instead that you _decipher_ me quite well, even without visual aids. Which is frustrating."

Persephone took the initiative, because she doubted he would do it: she approached a little, sliding along the desk.

"Did you mean it's nice?"

"I meant what I said."

Persephone was now beside him, just an inch separating their bodies. She kept staring at him with an amused expression, supporting his _inexorable_ gaze. He was so similar, yet so different from when he sat on the throne. At that moment, just when he was the most far from a mortal appearance, he seemed _human._

Persephone spread a sly smile.

"You mean what you want, my King. But I thought I was here for a peplum."

"You're here for a peplum, indeed."

"It wouldn't seem."

And at that point, almost suddenly, he straightened up, moving away from the desk. He cleared his throat, adjusted the band of the chiton on his shoulder, smoothed his hair back. Persephone noticed that he was trying to hold back an embarrassed smile.

Shy. She had called him shy before, and the thesis could nothing but strengthen.

"The peplum." He repeated coldly. Persephone found it even more funny, because it seemed like he was trying to remember _what the hell_ a peplum was.

"Yes, the peplum, Hades. It's my _uniform_ , remember?"

He turned quickly, his hair longer and more fluid than ever, like ink in water.

"Don't get too much into mocking me, Divine Persephone. I’m a touchy God."

Then, without giving her time to react, he walked over to a bare cabinet on the other side of the office. He opened the doors and pulled out a pile of dark fabric. He returned and handed it to her, solemn and formal.

Persephone took it and looked at it. She needed some time to realize that actually it wasn’t black, but dark purple, plum-colored. It was of a heavy, winter fabric, decorated with a silver border along the whole seam.

No need to be an expert on traditional clothes to understand that it was expensive.

"Oh, it's... quite a challenging color..."

"It’s the color of the Gods. You thought I was going to give you a white linen peplum?"

"I like white linen..."

But he was immovable, pragmatic.

He insisted:

"Purple is the noblest color you could wear. Once it was the most difficult color to get and only the Olympians wore it, now it's tradition. It’s suited to your lineage, Divine."

"Oh, so it's really as expensive as it looks."

But, as she had already noticed, for Hades the economic value was a very vague concept. If it was expensive, he didn't care, he hadn't gifted it hoping to amaze her, or to show how wealthy he was.

"Don’t you like it?"

"No! No, I love it, but... it’ll stand out a lot between the interns and... I don't know if I deserve it."

At that point, Hades relaxed his shoulders. The slight bluish light that entered from one of the large windows caressed the muscles of his bare, white arm.

He approached, accommodating.

"I know you’re humble, Persephone, I don’t expect to understand why" he spoke honestly, as usual, "but may I give you a completely impartial advice?"

Persephone nodded, suddenly feeling a little more of the authority he put into the hearings. Not an intimidating authority, but nevertheless an authority.

He, in response, made one of the first gestures of physical approach: he placed one of his big hands on her shoulder. He lowered himself a little to see her closer.

"I’ve been in this world for three hundred thousand years" he began, neutral, "and I’ve learned that if you’re a God you’ll _always_ be different. You are a Goddess, Persephone. Accept it. Don't try to mix with others, don't hide yourself, because they will unmask you anyway."

Persephone looked at her clear, cold hand on her shoulder and sighed, feeling touched by those words much more vividly than she had believed. The Inexorable had said she knew how to decipher him, but it was also true in the opposite direction.

"I don't want to hide, it's just that I can't stand the idea of being born privileged."

"Privileged?" He smiled bitterly, "It's a very human way of looking at the issue, I'm afraid."

Persephone sighed again and tried to explain herself better.

"I just want to say that... I would like to prove that I deserve what I get."

"I know. I understand and appreciate it, believe me. But be careful not to fall on the other side of the problem: _if you persist in thinking you deserve nothing, you’ll achieve nothing._ "

Persephone looked at him a little closer. She searched for something in his tone or in his look that could be of help in her reply, but she found nothing: he wasn’t being sexist, nor patronizing, nor condescending. He was just being objective, as he was during his verdicts.

"Don’t try to be something you’re not" he continued, calm and cold as the morning sea, "don’t fear the envious or intimidated look by mortals, don’t mind the gossip of some nymph in court. We all know how they see us, but this is our role. I ask you as a personal favor, Divine Persephone: wear the purple. And wear it proudly."

As soon as he had finished saying it, with a studied, almost frustrating slowness, Hades ran his hand resting on her shoulder and climbed up her neck, light, only brushing it. He was so cold she got goosebumps, from her collarbone to her jaw. And right there he stopped. He paused for a moment, surrounding the side of her face, his hand too big. Finally, with only two fingers, he pushed under her chin and made her lift it, as if to show her to keep it high, always.

They looked at each other in silence and it was as if for a moment a straight line had drawn between them, a thread connecting their minds, a kind of electricity that kept them connected.

Persephone lowered her eyelids a little, feeling quite relaxed. It was the effect of certainty in his ivory irises to make her so relaxed, and she wondered if her power of empathy did the same effect on him.

"Well" she murmured softly, "I’d be really irresponsible if I refused you a favor, your Majesty."

He nodded slowly, smiling, equally relaxed.

"Good. If I can abuse your availability, I would ask for another one."

"What?"

"Try it on. There's a restroom there, go and change. I’d like to see how good you look with it, but not in the courtroom."

Because in the courtroom he would’ve had no way to prove his liking, of course. He wanted to dedicate some time to her privately, and Persephone found it flattering. 

Then she smiled wider and agreed. He pointed to a door in the corner, behind the desk, hidden because it was camouflaged with the wall itself. Persephone got in with the peplum still folded in her hands.

It was a small bathroom, not as regal as she had expected. It was so dark that, as soon as she shut the door, she felt like being engulfed, like a in a black hole. To tell the truth, it looked more like a closet: the ideal place to hide from unwelcome guests. Perhaps it had indeed been conceived for that purpose, for real.

Persephone struggled a little to take off her dress and figure out which way to put on the peplum. She was sincere when she said that she had never used one: Demeter, among all the Gods, had always been the one who had kept a more modern lifestyle, and certainly had never claimed that her daughter dressed traditionally, not even for ceremonies.

It was frighteningly late, when she understood that the fabrics were two: the tunic and the band, the latter extremely wide, capable of covering her entirely. Perhaps it would’ve been difficult to keep everything on her small shoulder. Indeed, maybe... maybe it was too big. But did the peplos have a size? No, the fact that the fabric seemed excessive had to be a desired effect.

Finally, Persephone folded her dress and looked at herself in the mirror. Well, she was nice. Even if only minimally, she saw in herself a bit of that ancient taste she had perceived in Hades that morning. She too with an uncovered arm, her neck in sight, and her long brown hair loose. With that outfit, she realized that a half updo would look better, so she searched in her purse and fished a clip. She raised her hair, and suddenly he saw herself... as she would’ve liked to be, in the age in which she would’ve liked to be born.

When she came out, she was pulling all the corners of the peplum, to make sure it was straight, in position, and that the band wasn't slipping away. She took a few steps, still trying to figure out how to walk without stumbling. When she looked up, she saw that Hades was already looking at her from the other side of the room.

Immobile, inscrutable as a portrait.

"So?" She urged, "Did I put it the right way?"

He smiled.

"You did."

He walked over and reached her in two steps. Again, he had to lower himself a little to be at her level, while Persephone tried to rush upward, in vain.

“May I?” He asked, gallant, with a raised eyebrow.

Persephone found it fraudulent that he asked permission before saying what he intended to do, but she consented, avoiding teasing him; because she knew he was such a gentleman that he would never have done anything inappropriate, at least not without an official agreement, undersigned in three original copies.

In fact, he wasn’t inappropriate: he replaced the band, to let it better fall on the shoulder, keeping the flaps gently. He acted so delicate, like he didn’t want to spoil neither Persephone nor her dress, treating her figure as a work of art.

"If you’re cold, you can cover the other shoulder as well."

And he showed it to her, stretching the band and covering the whole figure. Persephone chuckled, because she had the vague feeling that it would’ve been useful, given the climate and her body accustomed to hot environments.

But Hades hadn’t yet finished: he showed her another way to wear it and, leaving it on both shoulders, he pulled the decorated fold over her head. He left it like that, moved his hands away and looked at her dreamily, his face tilted to the side.

Persephone began to feel embarrassed and tried to spur him on to the conversation.

"How am I? Do I look like the Pythia?"

But he didn't answer immediately. He sighed and let out a slight moan from the bottom of his throat.

" _You look like a memory_."

And with those words, so dreamy yet so painful, Persephone realized that Hades' love for tradition wasn’t just aesthetic taste, or obsolete gallantry. He was left behind. He was a wagon that had been lost, he had ended up at the bottom of the caravan. Isolated in Erebus, in space but also in time, living on memories and customs that he no longer felt respected.

It didn't have to be easy to be an ancient God, no. At least as much as for Persephone it wasn’t easy to be a new Goddess.

She decided to comfort him, then, and cheer him up. With a quick gesture, elegant but cheerful, she made another flower and handed it to him, holding it between her fingers. It was a purple narcissus.

"For your collection, my King."

Hades smiled, took it, sniffed it. And maybe, this time, he felt he had tripled his wealth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not enough food in this lunch break. Persephone is not amused.


	12. A thread in a fabric

Eating was one of the most vague and malleable concepts for the Gods: they didn't need it to survive, some didn't even feel the urge. Food was more like a social norm: they used it for banquets, for events, for the sheer pleasure of tasting flavors. Hades was like that, as many others: he usually didn’t eat, except when he was hosting someone. Needless to say, Persephone was the exact opposite.

Persephone _loved_ food. She loved studying the ingredients, cooking them, experimenting with new techniques, tasting, nibbling, and even licking the residues in the pots. And yes, she also loved regular meals, because she was used to it by humans and other mortal creatures, and because it was a way to disconnect during the day. Sometimes, in a surge of rudeness, people asked her if her love for food was the reason for her body _sphericity_ ; She liked to say yes, because she liked the idea that, if she wished, she could lose weight. Actually, she feared that her broad hips and busty tits, given the divine immutability, had more to do with her role as fertility Goddess than with food.

In any case, whatever the reason for her roundness and whatever the stoic habits of the God of the dead were, Persephone had no intention of giving up lunch. She told Hades and asked if he wanted to join her.

"I’m mortified" he said, casting a fleeting glance at a large clock above the office door, "I have more impending issues than usual these days. I’ll be in a video conference with Anubis soon."

"Oh, it doesn't matter, don't worry. I'm going to explore the surroundings!"

Hades lowered his head a little, contrite, always impeccable in his behavior.

"But to make it up to you, I'd like to have you at dinner."

Persephone, still in the purple peplum, spread a dazzling smile.

"Oh, gladly!"

"I’ll take into account your diet this time, promised."

Then Persephone had an idea. She didn’t know if it was orthodox; but, actually, nothing that she had proposed to Hades since she had known him had ever been orthodox. 

"Why don't you come for dinner at my place? We can inaugurate the apartment. I'll cook something myself!"

He smiled smugly. Persephone thought that an old-fashioned man like him could really appreciate that little housewife side of her... the only one she could offer, unfortunately.

"Can you cook?"

"I love cooking! But you’ll tell me if I’m good, I don't like to compliment myself. What do you like?"

But he raised his hand with quiet disinterest, as he did at the hearings, and narrowed his eyes in a quiet grimace devoid of troublesome thoughts.

"You have free rein."

Always neutral, of course. For him, expressing preferences was almost sacrilegious. Persephone indulged his need for impartiality. So they smiled, formally said goodbye, and Persephone left him to his work overdose.

She spent the rest of the lunch break alone, around the court, eating a slice of pizza. Because yes, there was pizza in Dis, and good too! But it made sense: many of the souls converted to the Classic Pantheon, by cultural proximity, were precisely Italians. Their restaurants, memories of earthly life, were almost everywhere, along with the Greek ones, sometimes Turkish or Arab. Irish pubs are much rarer, to the great displeasure of Persephone.

When the break was over, she returned to the palace, as in the morning crowded with all those gray, confused, frightened souls. Death made all humans very similar, both in their appearance and in their behavior. Very little remained of the cheerful variety that Persephone loved of the living part of their existence. And suddenly, a horrible thought: Caterina, one day, would’ve been there. Well... not really _there_ , maybe: she was an atheist, she didn't believe that the Gods were really Gods, and therefore she didn’t worship anyone. The souls like her, who didn’t choose a Pantheon, were randomly sorted among the various Underworlds. They were really the most hated souls from a Divine point of view, because they were like _taxes_ : they occupie time, space, and don’t reciprocate even with faint praise.

One day, Persephone asked Cate the reason for her choice:

" _Why don't you pray to anyone? The Gods revealed themselves on purpose to avoid all your religious wars, to prevent you from killing one another, and you still don’t believe?_ "

" _I believe in your existence, but I don't think you’re Gods. You’re fantastic beings, but you’re just a higher stage of evolution, nothing else. No offense._ "

" _Okay, but don't you fear your soul goes into a casual Underworld? You could happen in a horrible place that you don't even share values with._ "

" _Isn't life casual? I cannot choose how I’ll die, I won’t even choose my afterlife._ "

After that conversation, Persephone hadn’t insisted. Not because the vision of her friend offended her, on the contrary: she was very intrigued, it was one of the aspects which she hadn’t yet fully understood about humans. But she knew it was difficult for Caterina to talk about it, because she was afraid of being disrespectful in front of a Goddess, and then Persephone had respected her choice. And she came to the conclusion that, perhaps, humans _need_ mystery. _Mystery is necessary_. They cannot live with the conviction of knowing everything. That is why, even in a world of revealed deities, atheists, agnostics and even some false and new religions continued to exist.

Thinking of this Persephone made her way and wondered how many atheists there were among those souls about to be judged, how many agnostics, how many pantheists, how many undecided... she wondered even if that wasn’t already _injustice_.

Trying not to overload the mind on her first day, she identified the group of interns, with hearing rather than sight: Orphne was gossiping at a high volume.

Persephone approached the nymph and smiled at her, still undecided about what to think of her. Orphne, in response, prevented her from doubting too much: seeing her with the purple peplum, she looked up and down, disapproving.

"That peplum is a bit pretentious, isn't it?"

Nymphs usually didn’t mince words. Even Hades was like that, but at least he didn't give criticism just for the fun of it. Nymphs, instead... they knew how to be both the best friends, and the worst bullies.

Persephone shrugged her shoulders, above all because she herself had expressed the same doubts about the pretentiousness, addressed to Hades. But she didn't want to be treated sufficiently by a stranger anyway.

"We didn’t introduce properly, I'm afraid. Nice to meet you, I’m Persephone, _Goddess_ of spring and flowering."

She put a little more emphasis on her own divinity. It was one of the first times she did it and still she wasn't sure if that behavior suited her. But she couldn’t deny that Orphne's reaction pleased her: the nymph pulled her long ears back, submissive.

"Oh, Divine... my bad, I’m sorry."

"No problem, we just started off on the wrong foot." Persephone smiled, because yes, she could even listen to Hades and brag a little more, but that didn't mean to hold grudges. Then Orphne spread a shy smile and raised an ear, only one, undecided.

"Please don't tell the Inexorable how I was talking about him."

Persephone shook her head and the nymph relaxed.

"I’m the Goddess of spring, not of chatter."

Actually, Hades already knew how they were speaking of him and didn’t care. But Persephone didn’t say it to Orphne because, knowing the nature of her kind, she would’ve panicked. So she just let her giggle, feeling the first spark of a pale friendship.

In the afternoon, Persephone believed they would attend other hearings. But no: suddenly one of the Moirai showd up to retrieve the group. She informed them that she was about to personally teach a class on the computer system used by lower courts.

The Moira was Clotho, the youngest. She looked like a middle-aged woman, while Lachesis and Atropos, her sisters, both showed a few more decades. All three always dressed in black and white, in modern clothes if they were at some social event, or in peplos if they were in court. But, in any case, they were always recognizable. Clotho, in particular, made a slightly greater use of white: that day her whole tunic was in fact candid, cut in half by the diagonal of the dark band. For the rest, she seemed just an elegant lady, even quite euphoric. Persephone could imagine her as a modern aunt, lover of travels, reading, with a thousand degrees, no children and so many stories to tell.

She led them all in a large open - space on the first basement. Only then did Persephone discover that the palace extended very deeply, and it was a much larger work environment than she expected.

There were some desks and Clotho said that that would be their office in the weeks to come. Each station had a computer and some basic office items. Hades had certainly modernized everything efficiently.

"For the next two weeks you will just be at the hearings" Clotho explained as she asked them to sit down, "after that, however, you will work here. You’ll be given simple cases and you’ll have to decide. Don't worry: every sentence issued by you will be examined by a tutor. And if you have problems with any case, remember that you can appeal to the higher court."

Orphne, sitting next to her, gave Persephone a significant look. 

"Anyway, today since I have some spare time I want to show you our Telematic Loom: it will be very useful when you have to work on your own." Clotho resumed, looking quite proud of what she was about to show.

She ordered them to turn on their computers. The poor Faes found it difficult to press the button, since they were not bigger than a can. They were helped by the other interns, but Clotho promised them that in the following days she would’ve installed supports more suited to their size.

"The software is already installed and should be on your desktop, open it."

Persephone found it immediately: it was an icon with two intertwined threads, one white and one black, called TELLUM.

"The Telematic Loom, or Telloom, or Tellum, is a software of my invention that has really saved our lives, if I can give myself a credit. My sisters didn't want it at first, those old crones, but I convinced them with efficiency" Clotho went on, smiling, spreading humor in the whole environment, "with this software, you can access all the threads of life. You can find any mortal or immortal creature, alive or dead, whether or not it prays our Pantheon. It doesn't matter, we see everyone. We are the stalkers of destiny."

A shy collective laugh. Then, an equally shy raised arm. A very long one, thin and clear, with strange proportions: the arm of a sylph.

"Is there a question?"

"Yes, excuse me, ma'am" intervened the blonde sylph, embarrassed, with heavy Nordic accent "but we are not experts yet... you Moiras are like the Norns?"

Clotho smiled at her easily and adjusted the bun that kept her gray hair in a strict updo.

"The plural of Moira is Moirai, darling. But yes, we and the Norns have the same function. Every creature of this earth has a thread of life, destiny, if you want to call it that. I weave the thread, Lachesis unrolls it and scrutinizes it, Atropos cuts it and puts an end to life. The Norns, our highly esteemed colleagues, do the same thing, help us with work. But it has been a long time since we are in agreement with them and we have joined our fabrics, this allows us to have all the threads in the system."

There were no more questions and the interns looked at the displays, intrigued by the software. Persephone did the same, and actually found it very intuitive: a simple beige screen, with a text box and a search key.

“All you have to do is enter the name you need in the search area. In cases of homonymy, you can make the search more specific by entering other data, such as the date of birth, physical appearance or even the fingerprint. Yes, I really thought of everything."

More laughter, but no one managed to break away from the display, they were all too interested in their experiment. Persephone felt a bit undecided about who to write, to be honest.

"You can look for who you want, even a friend or relative. Don't worry about privacy, confidential information requires two confirmations to be shown, so you don't see something _hot_ by mistake. The only thing I can recommend is not to look for yourself. You can do it, but it's not worth it."

And therefore a person was already eliminated. Persephone didn’t want to put even other Gods’ names, because she wasn’t sure that for them the destiny was a real thing, and surely they would all have been very long threads. She then chose and wrote the name of Caterina.

Suddenly, a huge story appeared.

Her whole life was divided into years, from birth to today's date. Clicking on the years, the months opened, clicking on the months, the days, and so on until the very seconds. Everything that Caterina had done, was doing or would have done in the future, was written there, represented on an imaginary virtual thread: sometimes the event were reported in a written document, sometimes instead a photo or even a video, as if a camera was spying on the lives of every single mortal. And, whenever the thread of one's life met with that of another, there were crossings, twists, knots, divisions, in an enormous pattern, incomprehensible to the human eye.

Persephone didn’t investigate too much about Caterina's life, she didn’t want to snoop. And she wasn’t allowed to go beyond the current date. Because, really, Clotho had thought of everything: the future was hidden, it was necessary to click on a special button to reveal it.

"After some experimentation" explained the Moira, with a more serious tone, "my sisters and I have decided to hide the future like other private events, so that you don't see it by mistake. It turned out that it can give, how can I say... some ethical problems to many of our workers. Well, actually, it gives problems to all those who are not the three of us. So, the choice is up to you, but know that _what is seen cannot be unseen_."

She could have done it, Persephone.

She could have read the future. In good faith, of course... just to know. Because, since she had known Hades, the mortality of her human friends was becoming a much wider problem than she wanted to admit. That was the reason why even the Gods married almost exclusively among themselves: because death hurts everyone, especially those who are condemned not to face it.

She could have done it. She could have known about Caterina’s death, its circumstances, and above all her final random afterlife. But, whatever the response, even the most positive, perhaps a death at ninety-five and the luck of ending up in Erebus, Persephone already knew it would’ve been painful. Because the ephemerality of life had never struck her so deeply, she, who would’ve looked twenty-five years old for all eternity.

But life is casual, isn’t it? This was Caterina’s idea. She didn't believe in a written destiny, she didn't want to be diminished to a thread in a fabric. And perhaps it was fair like that.

Persephone closed the page, looked no further. For the first time, partially, she was able to understand that human _need_ for mystery. Because maybe life is just a thread, in a big universe that is really just a piece of woven fabric. But it wasn’t Persephone the weaver, and promised never to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, thank you for reading! Just a word or two about the translation of the "Telematic loom", it was a tough one!  
> In italian, it was "Telaio Telematico", which is in fact the literal translation of "Telematic Loom". But it was so much better because both the words started with the letters "tel", so the software was called "TelTel" or "Telx2". I thought it was EPIC. Then when I started translating this part I realized I couldn't keep that name and fell into depression xD I asked to a friend (graduated in english transaltion) to help me and she proposed to call it "Telloom" (or "tellum" to be more similar to latin), which sounds like the verb "to tell" (a software that tells something about the souls). That was the very best we could think. Sooooo... well, there's no point in telling you about this, I just wanted to prove how difficult it can be to translate and show you HOW BEAUTIFUL THE NAME TELx2 WAS, OH GODS, IT WAS TOO GOOD TO BE BORN FROM MY SIMPLE MIND, HOW COULD I BE SO BRILLIANT? xD  
> Anyways, thank you as usual! Until next time, mortals! We'll see Persie and hades first official date! *.*


	13. To see is to know

One day.

Just one day on her job and Persephone had sounded more metaphysical concepts than she had even caressed in her mind throughout her life. How could Demeter not understand her interest in that field of study?

This she was thinking as she walked, again in her modern coat, heading home under the curious gaze of the dead souls of Dis: a cold, colorless city that was at once the safest and the most dangerous of the whole creation. The safest because nothing bad could possibly happen: all the souls who lived there had been deemed worthy, so there was no violence of any kind. But the most dangerous, because it was easy to get lost. Seeing it from a distance, in fact, it seemed to have borders, but Persephone had soon learned that it was just an impression.

Dis was endless, as endless were the souls living there.

It seemed like it was created automatically as you walked along it. You could’ve walked for hours, days, weeks, years, centuries, and you would never have come to an end. The houses, the buildings, the streets took shape like the horizon of an infinite videogame. You could’ve gone so far as not to remember anymore from where you had started. That was the reason why there were plenty of signs, around the sidewalks, warning: _always remember where you are going._ Which sounded almost like a _memento mori_ , and perhaps it was meant to.

Persephone tightened her jacket, just as she passed by a group of souls. She felt colder and knew that the dead contributed to the cold climate of Erebus. She found somehow philosophical that the more centuries passed, the more souls increased, the more Erebus would become an unlivable icebox. She hoped so much for Hades that he had an action plan for that too.

Persephone arrived at her building and entered the main door. She climbed the stairs and, finally, she was at home. Well, maybe it was still early to call that apartment _home_ , she still hadn't had time to customize it and become attached to it. But it was hers, it was private, and it was something.

She didn't have much time to prepare dinner, so she immediately set to work, putting away the groceries she had bought in a small shop on her way home. She explored the kitchenette and began to heat the oven.

About halfway through the preparation, she grabbed the phone and considered how to contact Hades to ask what time he would arrive. She decided to write him a text and, to her surprise, the answer came immediately. Written in a formal way, without abbreviations and with punctuation in the right place, of course:

" _I’m sorry, stuck in the conference. Can we reschedule?_ "

Persephone sighed, disappointed. She looked at the baking-pan with dinner waiting to be cooked and wondered what she would do with it. But above all, she wondered if it really was just a particularly busy period for Hades, or if he was always so obsessed with work. Perhaps it wasn’t a good omen, if it was difficult to get him out even at the beginning, in the most enthusiastic period of that relationship.

" _No problem, there’ll be other opportunities. Have a good evening at work._ "

She sent it, distraught, with tight lips. And, at the same time as the blue check delivery notification appeared, the intercom rang.

Persephone jumped on the chair, frightened. She laughed of herself while running on the balcony. If it was Hades, she swore it, she would’ve made him pay for it.

She went out, leaned over, and saw him: it was Hades. He was modern again, with a jacket, tie, and short hair. He was looking up at her, quiet, with his hands in his pockets and his impertinent look, proud of himself.

"You!" Persephone accused him, forgetting any kind of etiquette.

"Me."

He raised his eyebrows and Persephone heard the sudden urge to strangle him. Yet she laughed, she could not stop laughing, for being frightened of the intercom but also for falling for his trick.

"So even the Inexorable likes these kind of bulls... idiocies."

She corrected her vulgarity to the last, sure that he didn't like it, especially in the mouth of a Goddess.

"These _bullidiocies_? Yes, sometimes. But, between us, I’m very disappointed."

"Oh, disappointed, too?"

" _Very_ disappointed, I said. Did you really believe I would cancel a date with you? And so rudely, with a text? Bad, very bad, Divine Persephone. I thought you could _decipher_ me better."

It was funny, because he really couldn’t do without his usual serious attitude. Without knowing him, it was almost impossible to tell if he was joking. He always tried to make everything sound professional, even irony.

"I don’t think you deserve to get in." She teased him, leaning on the railing and looking up, pretending to be hurt.

"I don't know if you were informed, but I'm the King around here."

"A King visiting such a plebeian building?"

"The building is second choice for sure. But I can't say the same for its inhabitants, can I?"

Always so frank, yet so shy. He was really a strange man.

Well... he wasn't a man, actually.

She let him in, but assured him that she had yielded just out of pity. In the exact moment when Persephone opened the door for him and his host put the first foot inside, the playful and impertinent Hades disappeared, to leave the place to the usual immutable, formal, graceful and measured God. Sometimes he almost seemed to change age suddenly.

In fact, he bent both to pass under the architrave and to bow in front of her. He took her hand, greeted her, and widened a professional, neutral smile. Persephone herself didn’t know if she liked more his old-fashioned manners or his informal side.

 _In medio stat virtus_ , she said to herself. Hades had both of those aspects, so why not enjoy them equally? Therefore, she let him kiss her hand, flattered.

" _Γειά_ _σας_ , Divine Persephone. Thanks for the invitation, I'm delighted."

She felt herself blushing as he pulled away and straightened his back, squeezed into that tiny space.

"Oh, you must be uncomfortable, sit down. I'm sorry the ceiling is low."

"It's not the ceiling that is low."

He had said it with a subtle pride. Well, so it was clear that he was proud of his height, he wasn’t ashamed as for his eyes. 

"Now I understand why your palace is so big."

"You for sure understand why I would’ve preferred to have you there."

"I don't think the reason was just the height of the ceilings."

He shrugged and didn't answer. Persephone, aware that he would’ve never confessed the existence of selfish reasons behind his offer of hospitality, decided to grant him a break.

"Anyway, if you wish, the next time we can have dinner at your place, if I'm allowed to invite myself."

"You’re very much allowed, Divine Persephone. Especially since this gives me the confirmation that there will be a next time."

Inexorable but likeable, shy but bold. Perhaps it wasn’t difficult to love him because he was scaring. It was difficult to love him because he made no sense in his supreme logic.

Persephone shook her head, amused. Since he enjoyed flirting so shamelessly, she saw no reason why she shouldn't have done the same. Then, surprising him, she placed both hands on his chest, running the edge of his suit jacket. She ran the touch upward, trying to reach his shoulders. She had to stand up on her toes, and he leaned forward to allow her to reach the collar.

Now even their faces had come closer and Persephone was giving him an alluring smile.

"May I?"

He didn't even breathe. Maybe he didn't need it, but Persephone liked to think it was out of tension. In fact, he looked down at his chest, checking her hands and her movements.

"Sure." He murmured, cold.

Embarrassed, actually.

"We are in my house, Hades" the young Goddess explained, making her way under his jacket and slipping it off his shoulders, "and in my house there are _dress code_ rules, as there are in yours. You are too much formal for your guest's tastes."

She took the jacket off him completely, resting it on the sofa next to them, and left him just with his white shirt. Then she resumed her work, sure that he wasn't as bold with physical gestures as he was in words. While he remained motionless, petrified, she loosened his tie and took it off too, with slow and lascivious gestures. Finally, she attacked the first button of his shirt, which was close and made him seem too rigid. She opened it and spread his collar a little.

"More comfortable, isn't it?" She provoked, and finally passed a finger on the black suspenders, "I’ll let you keep these, don't worry."

Hades exhaled and Persephone noticed, just for a moment, that he ran his tongue over his thin lips. The Inexorable had to be nervous.

"I think…" he murmured, in that deep, baritone voice of his, "I _really_ think that Demeter wouldn’t approve of this."

"Why, is there anything my mother would approve of?"

And that made him relax, because he finally laughed and raised his eyes, which he had held down until that moment. Since he was still bent, Persephone saw them as close as the first time. She had the sensation of getting lost in his obsidian-colored sclera which, paradoxically, attracted much more than the irises.

 _Getting lost_. She felt like _getting_ _lost_.

She continued to watch those eyes and the smile died. She remembered the certainty of everything she had felt the first time he took off his glasses. She knew it was coming back. It was all clear, sure, and she was so unchallenged that her conscience no longer knew what to ask itself, and was now blocked.

"Persephone, don't look at me. Certainty is a drug, the more you look, the more you need it."

Hades put his hand on her shoulder and the simple gesture brought her back: Persephone blinked a couple of times and looked away. She was sorry, really. She sighed.

"I’m sorry." He murmured.

"No, I’m sorry, I... got distracted."

She put her hand on his forehead and shook her head, eyes closed, trying to recover. She wasn't hurt, not like the first time, but she was disappointed to have had that reaction again. She had hoped it was no longer a problem and instead, now that she had seen it in his eyes, she _knew_ that it would’ve _always_ been so. She could’ve gotten used to it over time, she could also have learned how to bear it, but she would never have been able to look at him for too long. What was worse, was that with that certainty had died the hope of freeing him from that little fear of keeping his eyes open.

Just as she was about to fall into melancholy, however, she felt Hades’ hand on her cheek. Big, cold. A little too rigid: it was evident that he wasn’t used to such tender gestures.

Persephone opened her eyes and saw that he was brushing her hair, and the flowers growing there.

"Beautiful."

He smiled quietly. He was trying to calm her, to make her think of something else, and maybe he was succeeding.

Persephone pursed her lips and nodded a little.

"They’re violets. For you."

"Thanks."

And he moved his hand away, not daring with anything more intimate.

And yet that was enough. Hades really knew how to transmit very strong emotions, the more significant the more he was silent: as in the hearings, when he didn't say a word, but everyone feared him. Perhaps, the Inexorable was a being so ancient as to have taken the word as a method of communication only in the last part of his very long existence. A being who could say everything without saying anything, who could make silence the most articulated of conversations.

After that little accident, everything flowed more serenely. Persephone invited Hades to sit down and put the supper in the oven, making him promise not to peek before it was served. When she served her masterpiece, she knew thanks to his amused expression that he had immediately understood what it was: a spinach pie of the Greek tradition.

" _Spanakopita_ " the God noticed, in a good mood, "I haven't eaten this for a long time."

"You like it? I made some changes to the recipe. To make it more... intense."

Hades raised an eyebrow, obviously suspicious. He was a firm supporter of the saying ‘ _never change a winning team_ ’, so he didn't see any use in changing a recipe that was already good in the traditional way.

But he said nothing, Persephone had to deduced it by herself, as usual.

"Trust me, it's good."

"I’m sure it is."

And he said it before tasting, as the gentleman he always was.

Persephone sat down with him and motioned for him to proceed. He looked like a haute cuisine critic, with his aquiline nose and his inscrutable nature.

At last he brought a forkful to his mouth, with such an elegance that almost made, by extension, elegant the whole environment around him.

"So, the verdict?" Asked the young Goddess, cheerful, confident.

"Good."

Persephone shrugged, tried to encourage him.

"And…?"

"Savory."

" _Describe_ what your taste buds are feeling with a complete sentence, Hades. You can do it."

He shrugged his shoulders, calm and pragmatic.

"I wouldn't call it unsavory."

Persephone rolled her eyes, realizing that he was teasing her. She pretended to collect the last few drops of patience and gave him a look of disapproval as she watched him grin.

"It’s good, don’t worry. And there are pomegranate grains inside, I noticed." He challenged her, satisfying her request for a complete opinion, and making her understand that he was always more attentive to details than it seemed.

"You guessed right, your majesty!"

"It seems like you have a taste for symbolism."

"It seems like you have too, since you noticed."

And she winked at him, sure that he considered it a too daring gesture for a young woman and, indeed, for anyone towards a King. But he liked it. Oh, he liked it all right. And the more Persephone realized it, the more she wanted to be more daring, because she was sure that the Inexorable was tired of being with people who couldn’t even say good morning without shivering. He would never have admitted it, of course, but fortunately Persephone considered herself sufficiently gifted with the power of empathy not to require his confirmation.

In fact, Hades made no comment on the wink, acting as if he hadn’t noticed. He opened the bottle of white wine and poured a drink. He introduced a new topic:

"So, how was your first day?"

"Oh, very good! This afternoon they showed us the Telematic Loom."

"Ah, so you’ve met Clotho. She’s way too proud of that devilry."

"Don’t you like it?"

"I preferred real looms and fabrics. But they took up too much space, slowed down employees, they weren’t efficient. And I had long since stopped scrutinizing them, anyway."

Persephone frowned as she ate her share of spanakopita.

"Oh, you don’t use the threads?"

He shrugged and Persephone caught sight of his muscles, hidden by his shirt. She wondered, for a moment, how someone so fit could have even the slightest interest in someone like her.

"Over time I lost interest" he admitted, sincerely, "the gift of certainty is already difficult enough to manage. Combining it with forecasting the future is excessive."

"Excessive for a God?"

"Excessive for anyone. If Fate had wanted me to run things by my own, it wouldn't have given me the Moirai. That’s their role, and I am infinitely ambitious, but I respect roles."

Like all the Gods, Hades was very sensitive about his Mysteries, and challenge his divinity wasn’t contemplated. That was the reason why he had spoken frankly, dryly. Not irascible, because anger was a feeling that he had caressed just a few times in his long existence, but Persephone nevertheless decided not to challenge him further on the subject.

"Well, you're right. I, for one, didn't look into my friend's future. I don't think I'll ever be able to do it, no matter which soul is involved."

Hades softened.

"It's a very personal choice" he then wrinkled his nose a little, with a slight smile, "and what about the hearings? What do you think?"

Persephone changed position in her chair, taking a sip of wine. She felt that the violets, tangled in the curls of her frizzy brown hair, were opening in a sign of curiosity.

"Very interesting. And very... quick, if I have to be honest. You and the judges are very confident in your verdicts and punishments."

"After thousands of years, Divine, it’d be worrying if we weren’t."

A joke. Persephone smiled, but tried to maintain a professional profile, given the topic.

"Above all" she added, "I was very interested in the case of the alleged parricidal man."

Hades also became interested, stretching his clear neck a little in her direction.

"Yes. It was a fascinating case, wasn’t it? I'm glad it happened just while you were there, it's a common problem of souls. They don’t deny their own faults, but sometimes their conscience makes them believe they are more guilty than they are, or vice versa. That man wasn’t lying, he really believed he deserved the punishment for killing his father. And in the future, you'll happen in front of guilty souls, who really think they're innocent. So, be careful. Always analyze."

Persephone took those words as an important lesson and nodded, finding it logical, clear, rational. She never had any doubts when it was Hades explaining those theories. He had the ability to make everything sound like an equation, every sentence of his became a postulate.

"I understand. So from now on, I have to pay close attention to the causal link between conduct and event."

Hades laughed with his thin lips, which usually pointed downwards in his natural face features. He abandoned himself in the chair, too small for him, and crossed his legs. It was strange to see him so, almost _sprawled,_ when he was usually always so rigid and strict.

"I like you, Divine: you keep using such _human_ terms to describe what happens here, even when there is nothing _human_."

"Um, I don't think there is nothing" she went on challenging him, "they’re different worlds, of course, but the principles are the same. Don’t take it as an offense, if mortals have come to conceive the same theories as you."

But Hades was still smiling, and suddenly raised both hands in surrender.

"No. Do as you prefer. It's your method, not mine."

And again, with very simple words, Persephone understood how actually he profoundly respected her _earthly_ side. It was a step that sometimes even Demeter couldn’t achieve.

After dinner, they went on talking about this and that. Because it was really easy to talk to Hades, as Persephone had already noticed: he was an excellent listener, he never allowed a discussion to become a fight. Except that he was very proud, like all the Cronids and all the kings in general, it wasn’t even an easy one to offend, and therefore it was easy to speak to him openly.

It was liberating.

When Persephone noticed that it was getting late and tiredness began to knock on her door, she decided to go to the balcony for a moment, to feel the cold on her skin and refresh her mind. Hades, obviously, didn’t feel even the most fleeting need for sleep, but he got out with her, without putting on the jacket. He seemed not to even feel the freezing temperature, completely at ease.

Persephone tightened a little in her sweater and leaned against the railing. She looked up, to the eternal night, and for a moment she lost herself staring at the fictitious firmament: the riches of Erebus embedded in the rock, high above their heads.

She sighed as Hades reached her side.

"You know, I think I never did you adequate compliments for those" she commented, amazed maybe more than the first time, pointing upwards, "it seems you know about ceilings, don’t you?"

But Hades looked at her, charmed. He didn’t waste time raising his eyes to something he had known since the dawn of time.

"Thank you, Divine Persephone. But I confess that it wasn’t my idea: Nyx proposed to put the diamonds up there, to imitate a starry sky. It quietens the souls. But those are not my real fortune: I have better ones, in greater quantities."

And Persephone didn’t doubt it at all. It was said, indeed, that Hades possessed a cornucopia, capable of generating plenty of diamonds. He could have made a whole pool out of them, and in any case it would’ve been just the tip of the iceberg of his fortune.

A wealth so wide as to become meaningless.

And, in fact, Hades not only couldn’t take his eyes off her, uninterested in the rest of Erebus, but was contemplating the flowers. He was enraptured. He liked those more than all the beauty of his kingdom and Persephone wondered how it was possible.

"You look very amazed by my violets, my King."

He smiled, nodding composed.

"I am."

"I have to make a confession too, though. It’s not like I can choose them. I mean... yes, I can choose flowers when I create them by hand, but those in the hair... they do whatever they want. I think they were impressed by your eloquent speech about the color purple today."

Hades frowned, ran a hand through his short shadowy hair, leaning against the balcony barrier.

"Are you ashamed of it?"

Persephone pursed her lips, embarrassed. The violets, confirming her feelings before herself, closed their petals.

"I'd like to have more control on my powers, that’s all."

She would’ve expected Hades to minimize, or make a joke, confirming that her inexperience was the reason for the lack of control over the powers. And, instead, he did nothing: he turned to the outside of the balcony, raised his contrasting eyes on Erebus.

"It's normal, you don't have to worry. It’s the same for everyone, even for me, even for Zeus."

"Really?" She asked, incredulous.

"Of course. If I could control my power, I certainly wouldn't choose to upset you so much when you look me, or when you see me sitting on the throne in the court."

Persephone sighed, flattered, relieved. Well, it was a nice thought. For her part, she felt sorry for him. To be honest, he seemed to be a much more sensitive man than he showed. Perhaps millennia had carved, hardened his personality, but originally, as a young boy... he had to be very, very different.

"What’s it like?" she asked, suddenly unable to restrain herself.

"What?"

"Your power. What do you feel?"

He shook his head, as if he didn't consider it very interesting or relevant.

"You’ve tried it yourself, it's the same thing you feel when you look at me. Just more."

"Yes, but... I mean, what is it like _for you._ How can you live with it? What exactly do you feel?"

Hades was serious now. Motionless. A block of marble, an ice stalactite. When he spoke, Persephone was almost astonished to see his lips move.

"I _know_. I feel I _know_."

Too pragmatic, too simplified, it wasn’t enough to understand.

"You mean you know everything?"

"No, not everything. Just some things, but so certain that I can’t have doubts."

Persephone was sorry, but she had to insist again, almost feeling her head hurt.

"I have to... ask you to give me a more articulate speech, I’m sorry. I don’t understand."

But Hades was patient as a stream that for ages has been digging the stone, waiting to create a canyon with the sole force of perseverance. In fact, he didn’t give the slightest sign of annoyance. Just, he sighed, turned completely towards her and placed both hands on her shoulders, as if preparing her for a very long speech. Persephone felt the cold rising up her neck.

"Think of certainty as to a color palette" he whispered, deep, far more poetic than what Persephone had believed him capable, "you have to know that I can barely see, Divine, everything is confused and blurry. But I can see people, and I can see some things. And when I see, I know. When I’m in the court, for example, even if she’s far away, I can clearly see the green of that nymph, and _I know_ that she is speaking ill of me, _I know_ she thinks I hired all those interns because they’re women. I can see the souls we judge, I can see the red of their anger, the blue of their guilt, the purple of their lust. _I know_ if a wife has cheated on her husband, _I know_ if a son loved his father or not."

"It must be... wonderful." Commented Persephone, in bliss.

"In theory. But there’s always the other side of the coin: you have to deal with the fact that there are no doubts, even those you’d like to keep. For example, I’d like to have the doubt that my brother may love me one day, but _I know_ he doesn’t, and _I know_ that this feeling will never grow in his soul."

Persephone held her breath, the violets more colorful and open than ever. She approached him half a step, still with his hands on the shoulders. She looked at him, paying attention every now and then to change objective on his face, not to be too fixed on those two chasms he had as eyes.

"And what... what do you see when you look at me?"

He narrowed his eyes, calm, dreamy. He raised his hands a little, until he touched her ear lobes and brown locks.

"I see you. You’re always clear in the midst of so much confusion. I see a color I've never seen. From the first second I laid eyes on you, _I knew_. And I try to tell myself not to overdo it, because _I also know_ that it’s still too early, _I know_ you don’t have the gift of certainty and you’ll never have the same convictions that I have. But…"

"But?"

Persephone held her breath, moved closer. Their bodies touched.

"But..." he was reluctant to talk, almost scared, "but... _I know_ I've been waiting for you all these centuries and _I know_ you're my last chance: if it's not you, it will never be any other."

Persephone swallowed, motionless, unable to say anything. Tears were pressing on her eyes, and she couldn't even understand if they were of sadness, of joy, or some other feeling that didn't even exist and that she was inventing at that moment.

She reached up an arm, coming to touch his hairless chin. A gesture that made him raise his eyelids, slow, cautious, as if he was suddenly afraid of seeing her in a different color: gray like denial. But Persephone wasn’t gray, and suddenly she _knew_ that she never would be.

She got up on her toes, tried to reach out. Hades, without haste, lowered himself. Not bending, perhaps, because he didn't want to look too imposing, he didn't want to _cover her._

He knelt down, on one leg.

Persephone smiled.

"Am I still a beautiful color?"

He didn't answer in words. He nodded frantically, a gesture too human for the Inexorable. Then Persephone was able to see a bit of that certainty, that palette reflecting in his neutral irises. And she saw herself _fantastic._

When their lips touched, it was like an event of its own, a small instant that had always existed, somewhere in the universe, and that was always destined to exist. So they seconded it, staying together for a small eternity, unmoving, warm against cold, life against death 

And in the night, in the eternal silence of the resting souls of Erebus, a word fled from the lips of the Inexorable, still delicately pressed against Persephone’s: the name he had been afraid to say, up to that moment.

" _Kore._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you liked this one, didn't you? 😏


	14. Dura lex

Sometimes Persephone liked to think about hypothesis, asking herself questions starting with _if_. For example: _if she hadn’t raised her hand at the congress, would Hades have been interested in her anyway?_ Or _if it nothing had happened the evening of the auction, would she have ended up in Erebus?_ Or, again: _if she hadn't accepted the internship, would she have been happier?_

For many questions there would have been an answer. Over time, though. And in Erebus, time was always abundant.

The first week that she spent there was the longest she had ever lived. Maybe it was because of the immutable illumination, or the melancholy of the souls living there. Or maybe it was because of Hades himself, in his unwavering calm sitting on the throne every day, without saying a single word more than necessary, without losing even one second in something he considered obvious or useless, sometimes even without moving or beating his eyelids.

Hades. What a great mystery he was.

He knew how to be the most considerate partner in private, only to become glacial in public. He had called her Kore, for example, her nickname, the same one her mother and friends used; and then the next day, appearing in the court, he seemed again the supernatural being which dominates the afterlife, without any apparent emotion.

Persephone wasn’t really bothered by all this. He was the King, she could understand his need to keep private life and the throne separate. She herself would’ve felt terribly embarrassed, indeed, if he had given her preferential treatments, or even if he had greeted her while they were in the court. It wouldn't have been right for him, and not even for her.

This said, however, Persephone couldn’t deny feeling worried whenever he entered. Seeing him with the dark chiton, the flat look, could make her feel subdued as the first time. It was his power, she knew, but she didn't like that feeling and now she knew Hades didn't like it either. It was an unjustified fear that, perhaps, was preventing her from doing her job. And here, then, another question she liked to cuddle: _if she hadn't felt that sense of inferiority, would she have been more proactive?_ Would she have been more involved? In short, if she hadn't turned into a tiny little cube in a corner of the courtroom every time he came in, would she have been a more useful intern?

She liked to say yes, but she didn't really know. In Erebus it was really easy to get lost, and not just on a physical level, walking around Dis: one could lose the sense of reality. People could even lose their _mind,_ and perhaps that was the reason why his majesty did everything possible to keep it, mathematical and rigorous.

In short, it seemed to Persephone that everything was flowing around her, and she instead was blocked, without knowing what to do. Her own self-confidence, which she had always loved, vanished. Every certainty about her Mysteries, gone. And that was really saying something, compared to a God whose peculiarity was precisely certainty. It was like he was stealing it from her: the more Hades was certain of something, the less was Persephone.

It was profoundly unfair.

But above all there was one doubt that gave her the most trouble. Hades had said several times that he would appreciate her different point of view. But _if that sense of fear hadn’t vanished, would Persephone ever have been able to express herself differently from the Inexorable, even if only to give him advice?_

Fortunately, to get the answer to this question, she didn't have to wait long.

There are two ingredients for winning even the most irrational of fears: the right time and the right cause. Both presented themselves to Persephone after a few days, one evening like many others.

Several hours had already passed since the opening of the court, and all the living creatures there were beginning to get distracted by tiredness, dreaming of the imminent night rest. The interns, above all, seemed quite tried: Orphne had a severe headache and couldn’t lift her ears.

Persephone sighed, tired but still too afraid to show it, unlike her colleagues. That's why she stood upright, always composed, pretending to be full of strength even when she wasn't. She remained stoic, trying to keep high her attention level, even on a boring day like that: there had been just a bunch of neutral souls and uninteresting cases. She looked at Hades, still afraid of staring at him too much, and saw him calm and measured, serious and immobile as he had been since morning. 

Then, finally, the last hearing of the day was announced: everyone seemed to awaken, preparing for the last effort.

No one expected three people to show up at the stand together.

They were a man, a young woman and a child, and Persephone thought they could be a family. They were gray, melancholy like all shadows. The man, the oldest, with a beard and curly hair, thick and grizzled; the woman was blonde, twenty-five more or less, beautiful even in her mortality; and finally the little boy, no more than six years old, with a timid look behind his too long fringe of dark hair.

There was only one reason why souls showed up together for the judgement, and it was contemporary death, in the same event and for the same cause. Those often were complex cases, because it was necessary to unravel if there were faults and their degrees, if the event of death had been caused by one or more people in the group. In short, as any human worker could imagine, that wasn’t a case they wanted to analyze five minutes before closing time. That’s why the first reaction of the interns, in seeing three defendants, was to roll their eyes and pray that it would end quickly.

Persephone, exhausted, tried not to show signs of intolerance and wrapped herself in the purple peplum. She got back the recorder that she had already switched off and glanced at Hades, hoping to see him at least a little annoyed. At least one movement to get comfortable again on the throne, the hand a little more rigid in tightening the bident, or even just a muscle moving on the face or the eyebrows... but nothing. Not the slightest gesture of fatigue, boredom or impatience. He looked fake, as if he could stay there, semi-dead for all eternity.

Persephone let it go, convincing herself for the umpteenth time that she couldn’t compete with the strength and determination of an ancient Cronid, and thus fueling the sense of awe she was feeling daily in the workplace.

Meanwhile, the three souls awaited permission to speak. Aeacus gave it:

"What are your faults, mortals?"

The usual question, the usual ritual that had been repeated for thousands of years, unchangeable.

The three souls didn’t answer immediately, as if undecided about who should start. They glanced at each other and never looked up at the throne, like any other soul.

It took so long that Aeacus became impatient, while Hades obviously waited motionless and indifferent.

"Mortals, speak! What are your faults?"

They got scared and winced, lowering their heads in submission.

In the end, something moved. While the young woman and the man continued to look at each other, silent, undecided, it was the child the one daring to talk. He was so short, he couldn’t see over the wooden railing of the defendant’s stand: he placed both hands on it and tried to pull himself up.

"Where am I?"

Persephone felt her heart tighten and the other interns had the same reaction. Especially Orphne, totally unable to hide her emotions.

Aeacus was the most empathetic of the judges and therefore he was the one to soften his voice. In any case, he wasn’t more magnanimous just because he was in front of a child: he was frank, honest and formal as if he were talking to an adult, only a little more patient.

"You're dead, human. You must be judged."

"Oh."

He said it with a voice so faint and innocent that Persephone had to look elsewhere, not to die drowned in emotions. That wasn’t the first child she had seen being judged, but the others were all dead after a long illness, and more or less they had understood that they had passed away. This, however, in his big, terrified eyes, in his thin voice, seemed more than ever confused and out of place. He must have died suddenly.

As she turned, Persephone set eyes on Hades, and it was worse than looking at the young defendant: he was still impassive. How could he do it? How was it possible? The same deadly look, it didn't matter that in front of him he had a murderer or a child. No feeling, no compassion in his black chasms, in his almost blind irises, in his relaxed shoulders, in his merciless black bident.

"Where's my mom?"

The child’s confusion began to hurt the hearts of everyone, even other souls awaiting judgment.

"Your mother is still alive" explained Aeacus, logical, "she won't be here for many more years, you'll have to wait for her. Now tell us, what are your faults?"

"I… what? I don’t know…"

Now he was hiding behind the railing, shyly. Persephone sensed that he was about to cry, from the way his eyebrows went down and his lips curved.

And here is the right time, the right cause. Persephone would’ve never, never dared to speak, for any other soul, for any other reason. But for that child, yes. Because no one was doing anything, because the souls of the adults weren’t brave enough to speak before the Inexorable, because the judges weren’t explaining the situation so that the child could understand, because Hades was fucking impassive as always. 

"Hey, little one! Don't be afraid, I'll help you."

This is how Persephone overcame her fear: one evening like any other, for a child, because she knew that if she hadn't done it, nobody else would have.

Hades was an impossible man to surprise, one who usually preferred not to interfere, and that was why he could remain stationary for days, without being scratched by the most dramatic of hearings. Likewise, he had never interfered to unlock Persephone's fear. Not only because it was just her first week there, but because it was his nature. He would never have imposed himself, he would never have rushed into things, because that was his strategy in all aspects of his life: waiting for the right time.

Death does not run. Death has an appointment and respects it. It doesn't arrive early, nor late. It can almost be said that death doesn’t kill: death takes souls when they cease to be vital. And Hades was the same: he didn’t run, he didn’t rush in achieving his goals, because he was _certain_ that the goals would’ve come to him. The fear of Persephone, in his eyes, was nothing more than a temporary situation. It could have taken days to heal, or millennia, and he wouldn't have cared: he would’ve been patient until she was ready. But he certainly didn't expect her to be ready so fast, and for a child, that maybe from his point of view was just one of the many prematurely dead mortals. That’s why, as soon as Persephone had spoken and stepped forward, separating from the interns’ group, he finally had a reaction: he slightly raised an eyebrow.

He moved a little on the stone throne, only to lean forward. He said nothing, though, and Aeacus spoke again.

"Sorry, what are you doing? Defendants are not allowed to have intermediaries."

But Persephone, by now, was in the center of the room, on the wooden bench, next to the child. She felt so many looks upon her, as well as the one of the Inexorable, studying her silently.

She swallowed, tried to remain calm. Her hands were shaking.

"This child... this child doesn’t understand what you’re asking him, your grace. I just want to help him."

But Aeacus, also in a black chiton, gold tassels on his shoulder to indicate his role as magistrate, stood up impatiently.

"Miss, please, leave the bench immediately."

" _Divine_."

It was Hades. It was impossible not to recognize his deep and sharp voice, also because he usually spoke so little that as soon as he opened his mouth he stood out, like a sinister crunch in the middle of the night.

Aeacus frowned.

"Sorry, my King?"

It took Hades a while to answer, because he always wanted to wait, to convey the idea that everything was done according to _his_ times.

"Divine" he explained flatly, "the respectable lady at the bench is a relative of mine, address her properly."

The court all ended up muttering and Persephone felt an unbearable discomfort going up her back. Hades really _had to_ bring up her divinity with anyone, he couldn’t help it. But the young Goddess knew that that wasn’t the right place to complain, so she tried to bring the mind back to the hearing.

"Oh, I beg your pardon" Aeacus apologized, turning back immediately to the bench, much more cautiously "Divine, I still have to ask you to move away."

"I just want to assist this child, it's his... right."

She knew she had probably passed the line: no one had ever mentioned _rights_ for the souls. But to her, however, it seemed _fair_ and _logical_ toprotect a child. So much so that she wondered how Hades, the supreme God of fairness and logic, could even think of stopping her.

And, in fact, he didn't stop her. Without saying a word, he made a gesture with his clear and veined hand, signaling her to stay where she was.

Persephone exhaled, feeling her knees weak from nervousness. Aeacus returned to sit in his place, obediently, and reiterated the question:

"So, mortal, what are your faults?"

Persephone breathed in to gather courage. Then she crouched next to the child and smiled encouragingly. She felt his fear, his coldness, his forgotten life: she prayed not to start crying, because she would’ve ruined everything.

"Hi, dear. What's your name?"

The child was more confident talking to her. He laid biting his nails:

"Alexios."

"Alexios? Beautiful name, you must be Greek. I’m Kore."

He smiled, shy, with the dark fringe covering his eyes.

"Hi, Kore."

The Goddess reached out a hand to touch his shoulder and encourage him: as soon as she did, she felt cold.

"Do you remember where you were before now, Alexios?"

"Before here?"

"Yes, before coming here."

He shrugged indecisively, looking around.

"In the car."

"Ok, in the car. Who was with you?"

"My daddy."

"And is he your dad?"

Persephone pointed to the curly man near them. Alexios looked at him, undecided, as if he didn't remember and wasn't very sure. But he finally nodded.

Well, then father and son in a car… probably it was an accident. There was still to find out who the girl was, but the adults would’ve talked there later. Persephone, still smiling, went back to the child.

"Alexios, now you have to tell me something. It’s easy, don’t worry, and then you can go. Have you been a good kid?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Have you been good, or have you done bad things?"

How could a child have done bad things? He couldn't, of course. Since Persephone had started the internship, every child under ten years old had always been sent directly to the Elysian Fields for eternal bliss. She had no doubt that Alexios was also destined to paradise, especially given his particularly young age. But the old men of Erebus (yes, including Hades) liked formalities, and then they wanted to hear it officially.

"I... am good... I think."

Persephone smiled at him heartily and nodded.

"Of course you are. Do you want to say it to that man up there?"

She pointed to Aeacus, on the podium, a little lower than Hades. And the child, this time more confident, turned to him: he confirmed that he had been good in his short life. Souls couldn’t lie, especially the more innocent or naive, and so everyone in that court believed him. Aeacus nodded, Minos and Rhadamanthys had nothing to say, and everyone agreed to guarantee Alexios the eternal peace of the Elysium.

Persephone winked at Alexios as she walked away, assuring him that it would’ve been over. She returned to her group, where all her colleagues looked at her in disbelief, especially Orphne who, it seemed, was beginning to feel a certain admiration.

Persephone believed the worst was over, there were just the adults left. Once again, she was wrong.

Now that Alexios had been sorted, Aeacus turned to the girl and the man, and repeated the same question:

"What are your faults, mortals?"

They finally talked.

"I have no particular faults, but I have no merits either, my lord." The girl confessed, with a contrite look.

"I was careless while driving" the man said instead, shaking his head, crying, " I was looking at the phone and... I killed myself, my son... and this woman as well, she was in the street."

Persephone held her breath, frozen. She still didn't know why, but her brain was ahead of her: she knew that something terrible was about to happen. She felt the souls’ tension. She felt Hades coldness, the logical indifference of the three judges.

The magistrates didn't even take a moment to talk to each other. Aeacus, speaking for the other two, issued the sentence:

"You, girl. You’re not guilty, you’re free to enter the city of Dis. And you, man, are guilty of having caused two deaths for your negligence: you will spend two thousand years in Tartarus."

The man, shocked, nodded. Tears fell from his head, bowed to the edge of the bench, and there they immediately froze.

"I deserve it, my lords. But what about my son?"

And that was the terrible thing about to happen: a son and a father separated forever. A saved child, a condemned father. Two different roads. Two destinies that would’ve never crossed again.

From that moment, the situation exploded. Persephone had never seen confusion in the court, and even in later centuries it would always have been a rare event; but that time, really, she was afraid a riot could detonate.

The father, suddenly aware of his fate, bent down to hug Alexios. The child, sensing that they were about to be separated, clung to his father's neck with all the strength he had and began to cry, to scream. And every scream was a torment for Persephone, a physical lash on her back, a martyr's whip.

He screamed that he wanted to stay with his dad, that he didn’t want be alone. Trying to help him, the blonde girl, for some reason, raised her voice to be heard addressing directly to Hades. No one in those days had ever dared so much.

"Lord of darkness!" She pleaded, with her hands clasped to her chest, "Lord of the Underworld, I beg you, listen to me! It wasn't the father's fault! I jumped on the road!"

But Hades didn’t listen to her, nor did he look at her.

Now all the audience was getting turbolent. Everything was confused. But, again, things could get worse: Alexios, clinging to his father but turning his head, looked at Persephone.

"Kore! Kore, help me!"

Persephone lowered her eyes. She didn’t know what to do. The confusion was making her feel dizzy. Suddenly, she felt the same feelings of claustrophobia and terror that she had experienced in front of the paparazzi in the university, or during the incident on the bridge.

She couldn’t ignore the situation. She could’ve, if Alxios hadn’t called her by name, but now... how could she just let it go?

She returned to the bench. This time to discuss.

"Hades!" She shouted, not for lack of respect, but to be heard, "Hades, listen to them!"

And he listened.

He jumped to his feet, quick, suddenly. He immediately looked like a statue made from a single, massive block of marble. He remained standing, the black chiton wrapping his figure in a thousand draperies, the long locks of hair highlighting his sculpted jaw. With his bare arm, his muscles tense, he raised his bident. The earth seemed to tremble under his command.

" _Silence_." He ranted, authoritative but also mortally quiet.

No one dared to disobey.

Everything was silent. Hades, as he always did when he wanted to bring everyone back to his rhythm, waited. He passed the sharp look across the room, souls and employees, defendants and judges. And all felt obliged to lower their heads and bow, even Persephone, to ask for forgiveness.

Everything seemed to last a long time. Persephone could have sworn that he had kept them in silence for at least fifteen minutes before breaking the deadlock. When he did, relaxing his shoulders, a sigh of unanimous relief rose from the courtroom.

"I don’t tolerate troubles in my palace" He scolded them, with voice like a faraway seaquake, "now I will examine this case personally. And the decision will be final."

Even the preamble alone sounded like a sentence, and everyone knew it had to be taken as such. Even and above all Persephone: of course, she was establishing a good relationship with him, but she was _no one_ at the court anyway, and she couldn’t lay down the law more than any domestic nymph.

She could, however, give her best to mediate for the child. It was right at least to try.

She looked up at the throne, then, trying to overcome her fears. When she met Hades, still standing and threatening, she saw that his gaze was already waiting for her.

He was indecipherable. Not angry, not proud of her, he was nothing.

"Divine Persephone, it seems like you’ve taken this case to heart."

Even that wasn’t an accusation, it was just a fact.

"My King" she dared, in a trembling voice, "it’s a complex case, I think we should analyze it more thoroughly."

"On this I agree." He admitted and, once again, didn’t sound like a concession, or an offer of peace: it only sounded like the objective truth.

He took a step back and sat down on the square stone throne. He loosened his grip on the bident a little, the veins of his arm subsided. He sighed and gave his order, rigorously:

"Speak."

Persephone sighed, swallowed, tried to find the strength in her knees that were about to yield.

"My King, it would be unfair to separate a father from his son."

"Guilt is personal, Divine, as you surely know. If different members of a family have earned different destinies, it’s not a problem of this court."

He always answered immediate, precise, surgical .

"Yes, but the young woman here wanted to say something about it. Maybe she can change the verdict on Alexios’ father."

Then Hades, with all the patience of a millennial Cronid, turned his chin slightly in the direction of the blonde woman. She was still in a crouched position and seemed to be praying, whispering from her lips.

"You, girl. Look at me. Tell me who you are and why you should share the responsibility with this man."

The young woman looked up and met the eyes of the Inexorable. Immediately she started crying, silent, but she never looked away and held her chin up, proud, as much as a soul could be facing the God of the souls.

"My Lord, my name is _Eurydice_. It's true, this man hit me, but I was in the street, I wasn't watching where I was going."

Hades, impassive, took a moment to scrutinize her, and Persephone knew he was using his power to untangle the problem. He made it very quickly:

"From what I know, you had been assaulted and so you were running away. You were confused. Am I wrong?"

"You... you’re not wrong, my King. But... if I hadn't been in the street, he wouldn't have hit me..."

"And if this man weren’t distracted while driving, he would’ve seen you in time and missed you."

"We can't know that..."

" _I can_."

He severely hissed that, and Eurydice didn’t dare to say anything else: she lowered herself, collapsing on the bench, withering like a yellow rose in autumn.

Persephone perceived that the situation wasn’t changing: with those only elements, Hades would never have changed the verdict of the magistrates. She closed her eyes, tried to gather ideas, and when she opened them again she decided to speak:

"Your majesty, Eurydice is trying to blame herself in order to help this father and this son: this indicates how unjust it would be to separate them."

"No. This indicates how the feminine maternal instinct can be strong even with unknown children."

How did he do it? How could he be so cold, and immutable, and uninterested? Persephone shook her head, distraught.

"Maybe it’s just maternal instinct, but speaking of this, there is also the paternal instinct, and you can see that the father is genuine in his concern for Alexios..."

"The father also has an obvious interest in having his punishment reduced, whatever solution he proposes is in a conflict of interest."

"Do you want me to believe he doesn't love his son?"

"He loves him. But not enough to drive safely while carrying him. I consider it serious, Divine, do you not?"

Persephone looked at him, looked for something in him, anything to cling to, but saw nothing. She realized that making him think with feelings could not help, because he didn't work that way. He wanted rationality. Good. There was rationality even in injustice, and she was about to prove it.

"If you relegate a child to the Elysian Fields alone, you condemn him to eternal unhappiness. But shouldn’t the Elysium be bliss? How can you think that for an innocent like him to be alone for eternity is a reward? It’s contradictory."

And finally, Persephone saw something in Hades. A brief spark in his eyes, an imperceptible curl of just one corner of his mouth. She noticed the same attitude in him as when she had asked the question about the unburied dead at the university: he was _interested._ Because it was really hard to surprise Hades, of course. But it wasn’t impossible.

He took his time and thought, then, genuinely, returned the dialogue to her:

"What should I do, Divine?"

Persephone felt herself burdened with an enormous responsibility, even though she knew that the final word would have belonged to him anyway.

"I... would opt for a gray area. Grant the father access in Dis. He made a mistake, but he didn't kill anyone voluntarily. It’s not fault, it’s negligence, and Tartarus should be only for the worst souls who must expiate. At least, this is what you're teaching us."

A break. Then, always precise, always formal and cold, the words of the God:

"Let's assume that I consent to such a solution, Divine. And the child? Should I deny him the Elysian Fields, despite him being innocent? Should I downgrade him only to let him stay with his father in Dis?"

"Give him the chance to choose. The greatest of beatitudes isn’t such for an orphan child. He would prefer Dis’ neutrality if it meant being with his father."

And it was true, Persephone was sure of it. Alexios, to emphasize this, nodded. Perhaps he hadn't understood the speech, but he was a child, and children always know how to amaze: he certainly knew that a solution was being discussed for him and he knew that Persephone was on his side.

There was nothing left to say, it was obvious to everyone by now. In fact, a tense silence descended upon the great courtroom. Everyone was waiting the verdict of the Inexorable, and everyone, in the end, expected him to be even a little less inexorable than usual.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t.

"I understand the reasons of all of you, even yours, Divine Persephone. And I thank you for your speech, which I consider worthy, thoughtful and stimulating. But in Erebus there is a balance and I _cannot_ break it. I cannot deny the Elysium to an innocent and I cannot pardon a culprit, or the very integrity of this court would fail. As harsh as it is, law is law, for the good of us all. For these reasons, I consider the verdict of the judges fair and I confirm it. Eurydice will go to Dis, Alexios to the Elysium. The culprit will stay in Tartarus for two thousand years. So ordered."

There wasn’t the same confusion as before, because the words of the Judge of Judges were final, always and for anyone. The silence remained heavy, melancholy, mournful, while the Inexorable raised a hand in sign of final decision.

The crowd dispersed, the souls and the interns left the courtroom with their eyes lowered, while Alexios was forcibly separated from his father. Persephone, on the other hand, stayed there looking at the scene with her heart in a tight grip, aware of being in front of an example of justice that, while impeccable, made everyone unhappy.

Even the Inexorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks!  
> This was the first, really difficult chapter to write. it wasn't easy to think of such an ambiguous case, and making every possible verdict "wrong", or at least "not fair". And moreover, yes, that's Eurydice... I'll let you make your hypothesis. Well, I hope it was interesting! To see Hades and Persephone's private discussion, you'll have to wait next chapter, eheh.   
> Thank you as usual, and see you next time! *.*


	15. Sed lex

Waiting.

Waiting was easy for the lord of Erebus, but not for Persephone, so active, so subject to nervousness in that specific case. It was indeed very difficult for her to stand still on the bench of the defendants, to wait for everyone to leave. She shyly waved goodbye to Orphne and the other interns with as they peered at her, worried that she was going to get a harsh scolding. To tell the truth, she wasn’t entirely sure of not receiving it. But she had to stay anyway, because Hades hadn’t stood up from the throne: he was there, unmoving, and staring insistently, communicating with the power of a look to wait for him.

And so, Persephone stayed there, if possible more frightened than before. She didn't even know if her fear was for the possible consequences, or for Alexios’ screams, which were still echoing in her mind. She was about to cry and didn't want to do it in front of Hades. She didn't want him to consider her weaker than she was.

Finally, the room emptied and from crowded and tumultuous it became gloomy, silent. There were now only Hades and Persephone, staring at each other. Persephone, as far as she could, trying to imitate at least a minimum of his impassivity.

Later, Hades stood up, calmly and slowly. He was upright as he had been just earlier to restore order to the courtroom, but not as threatening. Authoritative, yes, he always was, but more peaceful.

Only the noise of the bident on the ground, now, echoed in the wide spaces of the court, while Hades approached and began to descend the steps. Persephone saw his feet imprisoned by the sandals proceeding towards her. Her first reaction was to back away a little, like a deer ready to run.

The God came to her and remained still on the other side of the bench's railing. He was silent, looking at her from above, and she held his gaze as long as possible, wondering in the meantime what the Inexorable wanted to do: to compliment her, reproach her, resume the discussion? He had shown his appreciation for debates at the conference, but he was also a God, a Cronid, a King, three aspects that together led to an immeasurable pride: he certainly wasn’t one to appreciate being contradicted in his court.

And yet Persephone should have known: when in doubt, the most likely reaction to expect from Hades was nothingness, absolute silence. And, in fact, he remained silent: he didn’t scold or compliment her. He simply reached out and touched her neck near the earlobe, and lightly ran his thumb over the hanging earring.

"Come with me."

Quiet but lapidary, without explanation. Persephone, aware that she wouldn’t have received them, didn’t ask for them.

She went around the counter with uncertain steps and joined him. Hades was, as usual, offering her his arm. Persephone clung to it, wondering if it was all right between them. But the more she stayed with him, clinging to his arm, brushing against the heavy fabric of his chiton with her fingertips, the calmer she became. Because Hades was silent and neutral as usual, but in his silence and his neutrality he knew how to convey not just awe but also peace and slowness. He wasn’t angry because he never was; but, even if he had been, he could be _reasonable._ Much more than everyone else believed.

A God could always be tamed and Hades, although he usually didn’t need it, would’ve always loved to be tamed by Persephone.

They remained in complete silence as they walked together, Persephone unaware of where they were going. They crossed halls and corridors, and it seemed to walk miles. From the diminishing number of souls and the long road, Persephone noticed that they were changing the wing of the building, moving to the private areas of the King.

It was a large wing, much more compared to the small part Persephone had first seen at dinner with Demeter. That was just Hades’ little (so to speak) more private room. Actually, the whole quarter included a banquet hall, a swimming pool and an innumerable amount of rooms and inner courtyards, decorated with fountains, columns, bas-reliefs, sculptures and every other kind of art and riches. It seemed all made up to show the guests how powerful the King was, to compete with Zeus's residences. Which, according to Persephone, was nothing but a pointless male competition, the wealthier version of measuring the length of their dicks, but hey... who was she to judge the personal diatribes between the powerful male Cronids? Better to vent their testosterone that way, instead of unleashing the Titans and trying to kill each other.

They crossed all that magnificent palace and then, Persephone silently thanking herself for not accepting the hospitality, sure that she would’ve felt lost in that maze. And in the end, they arrived at the door of the room, the same one where they had dined weeks before.

They entered, Hades closed the door behind them. They found themselves back in the dining room with the glass table, but this time Hades accompanied her further. They went through the rooms divided by columns and drapes of dark curtains. They ignored a living room with fireplace and large armchairs and took a stairway, less majestic than those of the rest of the palace.

They went down. It wasn’t a long staircase, but to Persephone it seemed to reach the center of the earth. In the meantime, she was seriously wondering how many apartments like hers could fit in just an antechamber of Hades’ palace.

Finally, when Persephone no longer hoped for it, the journey ended: at the bottom of the staircase other purple drapes, which Hades pushed aside to allow passage. As soon as he did, Persephone saw another very large room, with a huge bed surrounded by transparent curtains.

She stopped, slipping off his arm.

"Oh... uh... are we going in there? In your bedroom?"

Hades turned, in his composed flatness, giving her a look full of sarcasm.

"Not for what you’re thinking."

She blushed all at once, like a cartoon. As the violets receded in her hair, she knew her complexion was becoming the color of the curtains and her own peplum.

She chuckled embarrassed and tried to defend herself with sarcasm in turn. It was a weapon they could both use, after all.

"You sound very confident in ascribing me dirty thoughts, your majesty."

"Look into my eyes and tell me I’m wrong, then." He challenged her, actually waiting a few seconds with a cold face. When enough time had elapsed to reveal the unspoken admission of Persephone's guilt, he resumed, more seriously:

"Come in. And don’t worry."

Persephone obeyed because she wasn’t worried. She was just embarrassed to be in such a private place, but she was certain that Hades was the most reliable person to be in a bedroom with. As he had told Demeter, he wasn't Zeus, he didn't assault people. But even more, to tell the truth: not only he would’ve never attacked her, but Persephone knew he would’ve never insisted, in fact, perhaps he would’ve never even made the first move. Because he was a God of infinite patience and gallantry and perhaps even fearful of physical contact. Even after kissing her, he had never dared anything more intimate, indeed, he seemed to consider bringing her arm in arm the only gesture allowed, at that stage of the relationship.

Therefore, the young Goddess resumed her journey and crossed the heavy curtains. And, as soon as she was inside, she saw.

She saw that one side of the room was open, divided only by a colonnade, and outside there was a large roundish terrace. She also saw that the outside wasn’t the city of Dis, as expected. It was the Elysium.

"Oh, Gods... can I?"

Hades smiled and motioned for her to have a look, assuring her that he had brought her there just for that purpose. Then Persephone walked quickly, crossed the columns, reached the terrace. She leaned against the obsidian railing and gasped.

Below her, at the bottom of an immense cliff, fields. Endless meadows, hills, mountains even, in the distance. There was fresh grass on the ground and a few plants, although they were still in a cave, below Dis. Not far from the balcony, near the rock wall, there was a waterfall, more silent than normal: it took Persephone a while to understand that the water was flowing backwards, from below, climbing on the stone. Beneath those rapids ridiculing the gravity, there was the river from which they originated: it passed close by the foundations of the palace, and then continued unrolling along all the Elysian Fields as far as the eye could see.

It was just the river the most spectacular element, and that was saying a lot. In fact, it wasn’t as dark as the Styx, no: it was bright and radiated a cold light, blessing all Elysium. It shone the same glow of the gems that Hades represented as a God, as if diamonds were dissolved in those clear waters. It looked like liquid wealth.

Persephone was immobilized, her hands on her mouth. She was panting, realizing only at that moment that the climate was mild, it seemed... like _spring_. 

Hades, in the meantime, had joined her and had leaned against the parapet beside her. He said nothing, he merely waited for her amazement to fade out.

"Hades…"

"Yes?"

He sounded almost worried, as if he wasn't sure she liked the sight.

"Hades, these are..."

"The Elysian Fields, yes. And that river is the Lethe."

Persephone couldn’t speak, she couldn’t even think. Besides, how could she? That was literally paradise, the place where only worthy souls accessed. And yes, she was a Goddess, but a Goddess who grew up in a mortal world anyway, and she couldn’t help but feel blessed to be there.

"And did you..." she dared, breathless, "did you make them yourself?"

Hades smiled, now relieved, pleased.

"In my life I haven’t often had artistic inspirations, I must admit. But every now and then..."

That made her laugh and suddenly it was as if a completely new man was before her. Yes, of course, it was always him, but how could he go back to be the Inexorable after she had seen how much beauty he was capable of? It seemed impossible that the person who sat on the throne of Erebus and managed the hearings so coldly could be the same that allowed the mortal to access a bliss like that.

Well it was. Impossible. _Humanly_ impossible. Not _divinely_.

"It's gorgeous, seriously..."

She couldn’t put into words how much she liked it, so she decided not to, sure that he had understood.

He sighed again, looking at her. Now more than ever his eyes and his long black hair seemed only meaningless physical traits. He seemed shorter, even. And the bident, which he still was holding in his hand, a useless stick.

"You know, this is the first place I created, when I chose the Underworld" he said, dreamily and seriously at the same time, his lips tight and reluctant, "I used to think that this was enough."

Persephone frowned. She detached her gaze from the endless landscape difficultly and concentrated on him, who seemed to have to express something important. She touched his arm and looked at him, urging him to continue.

"What do you mean?"

He shrugged, looked down. For the first time, Persephone saw him suffering, his silence broken by the sound of the waters of the Lethe.

"I was like you, Kore. I wanted to make everyone happy. The original idea was gathering all the souls here. After all, what does it matter? What does it matter if they have done something bad in their life? It’s not my problem, I don’t care. They’re dead, they deserve to rest after the life of tribulations my brother has so _cruelly_ bestowed on them. But then I noticed that the most turbulent souls ruined the quiet, tortured the more peaceful ones and for me they were impossible to manage. And then I had to create Dis. But even two levels weren’t enough, and some souls, the worst, I had to put them in Tartarus. Can you imagine? _Tartarus_ " he swallowed, it was difficult for him to talk about it, "I locked my father there, Kore. I wouldn’t wish anyone to go there, not even Zeus. But guilty souls become violent if they don’t pass through that place of punishment, if they do not atone for a hundred, a thousand, or ten thousand years until they repent. Dividing has become necessary for the general good. You must begin to accept the fact that the law exists to safeguard a balance, which I created because it is the _least worst_ for all of us."

Persephone remained silent, perplexed both by his sudden talkativeness, both by his tone, sincere and humble during that confession.

"I understand" she said cautiously, only murmuring, "I understand what you mean, and I had understood it even before, but... you're wrong."

"On what matter, Divine?" And, this time, even if only for a moment, his godly pride surfaced and betrayed him.

"On me. You think I want to make everyone happy, it’s the second time you tell me already. But it’s not like that, I just want to make happy those who need it and deserve it. I understand that you have your motivations and I already knew that your _perfection_ involved _perfect_ reasons for how you organized things here. But... come on... didn’t you feel bad for him?"

"The child?"

"Alexios." Persephone remarked, aware that not calling him by name helped the God of the Underworld to depersonalize.

Again, Hades shrugged his shoulders. It took him a while to speak, but when he did not even a bit of his previous sincerity had been lost.

"You can feel bad for the first one, Kore. Also the second, the third, the hundredth. Then they become thousands. Not feeling pity is not even a choice at some point."

Persephone pursed her lips, convinced, stubborn. She shook her head.

"I'll never be like that, maybe it's the only thing I'm sure of. I could spend entire ages in here, and in any case children would make me feel sorry for them. If... if you believe that I’m not suited to this place, then it’s better to... "

But he stopped her in the bud. He approached, immediately putting a stop to her thoughts, which were running towards too tragic results. He abandoned the bident to the fence as if it were a useless object, without any meaning or power. Finally, he leaned both cold hands on her shoulders and waited before speaking, as he always did when he wanted to slow someone down and bring the conversation back to his own inexorable pace.

"Don’t put words I never said in my mouth" and it sounded a bit like the admonition of a King, who nevertheless immediately softened, "I didn’t say you’re not suited, quite the opposite. _I know_ you have the gift of empathy as much as I have that of certainty, and so _I know_ that you’ll always have an emotional point of view with respect to the cases we analyze. But you’re here precisely for this reason _._ Because _I know_ , since the first second I saw you, that you have a future here, even if on some things we’ll never agree. But I need this. Don’t believe that I’d allow anyone to contradict me at a hearing, take it into account. If I do it with you, it's because _I know_ I need your point of view. And don't even believe that I haven’t listened to you, just because in the end I decided differently from what you proposed. You did a good job. Really."

Persephone was silent again, she didn’t know what to say. She had just received a compliment, and it wasn’t common for the Inexorable, at least regarding work. Yet everything was insignificant, because he seemed to have the situation much more under control than Persephone. It was like he had a bigger plan, something he had been preparing for centuries, of which she was only a pawn.

"Well... thank you. So, can I tell you that I’m convinced there must be a way to... soften this mechanism?"

Finally, Hades smiled. He removed his hands from her shoulders and pushed a strand of hair from her forehead, making everything suddenly sweeter.

"Not only you can, _you must_ say it, Divine. As already analyzed, empathy is your domain, not mine. In this respect, I trust your competence. I just wanted you to understand that this change you want to make _cannot_ be done by removing children from the Elysian Fields and pardoning their guilty fathers."

"Because otherwise it would be enough to have children to avoid Tartarus, and everyone would be saved. I know. I knew it even before, I just got carried away."

The Inexorable widened an oblique smile, proud. He held his head high, implicitly indicating to Persephone to imitate him.

"You see? You’re very much suited."

Persephone smiled back. She tried to get up on her toes, to get at least beyond Hades’ stomach height. And there, since she knew she had to be the one making the first move for a complete contact, she hugged him. She felt his solid body under the chiton's velvet, and almost found it hard to tie her arms behind his back.

After a first moment, Persephone felt that he was reciprocating, bringing his hands behind her neck, too tall to hug her normally.

"You're tired" he completed, as placid as the waters of the Lethe, "tomorrow, if you want, we can go and see that child. I'll let you explore the Elysium."

Persephone sighed heartened and closed her eyes. She felt good.

"Thanks."

"And one more thing" he added, pulling away from her to see her face, "as you may have noticed, there isn't much variety in vegetation. I’d be honored if you wanted to help me, Spring."

Persephone turned her head to the Elysian Fields, and saw them indeed very green, but only of grass. There wasn't much, just some pomegranate trees, near the palace. Then the Goddess smiled, feeling the exciting sensation of a painter in front of a white canvas, of a writer in front of an untouched page.

"Oh, my King, you have no idea what monster you're unleashing."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in a week. What is it, Sol Invictus?  
> LOL 😂


	16. Divine humanity

As Persephone had already guessed, the only real vice of the King of the Underworld was work. He didn’t particularly like alcohol as Dionysus, he wasn’t a sex addict like Priapus, he didn’t need endless love like Eros, he didn’t feed on the consent of mortals like Zeus and all the other Gods. But if it was about work, damn it, he was obsessed, sometimes even obnoxious. If he was engaged in something, he was impossible to move, even just for a coffee break (the opposite of Persephone, yielding to distractions of any kind). Moreover, he didn’t rest.

 _Ever_.

He didn’t physiologically need sleep, food or leisure, so he often worked in his spare time: at night or during the weekend. Sure, he had granted days off at his employees, but with great regret, and only because none of them was called Aleksej Stachanov. Left alone, in short, Hades usually stayed in his office or governed the kingdom otherwise. He had some hobbies, including swimming and reading, but they were all activities he considered inferior, to which he devoted time only during sporadic moments of what he considered _mortal weakness_.

Precisely for these reasons, Persephone was always flattered when he devoted time to her, and above all when he himself proposed some extra work activities. Therefore she was also flattered when the next day, a Saturday, he called her on the phone and asked her to come to the palace, reminding her very precisely:

" _I promised to take you to the Elysium, and you to beautify it with some flowers. You didn’t forget the appointment, did you?_ "

He implied that for him a forgotten appointment was a personal affront. Persephone lied and assured him she was already on her way. She also thought that it would be better for him to get used to it, because forgetting commitments was normal for her. Indeed, worse: she was one that usually made no commitments at all, preferring to live in the moment.

However, she went and until the end she was doubtful about what to wear, both for the climate, much warmer in the Elysian Fields than in the rest of the Underworld, and for the degree of formality. In the end, she decided to simply be herself: a short summer dress, colored with ethnic style frames, and underneath simple brown leather sandals. She gathered her hair in a ponytail and was pleased to see that the flowers of her crown had decided to be all different in type and color: it would’ve been a creative day.

She went to the palace, therefore, and she showed up at the private entrance, not at the court, as instructed. She had to ring the bell at the huge gate and a male voice greeted her from the intercom. She introduced herself and the custodian made her wait.

" _Excuse me, Divine, I have to ask you to undergo the ritual checks, wait for a..._ "

The guardian on the other end of the intercom had no time to finish the sentence. Suddenly, a distant and deep, snarling noise made the ground tremble. Persephone got scared, believing it to be an earthquake. She moved away a little from the stone column of the gate, fearing it could collapse.

There was a moment of flat calm, Persephone with wide eyes, wondering if the guard on the other side was okay. She tried to get closer, but to answer was no longer the same voice as before.

" _Welcome. Sorry for the inconvenience. Evidently, I haven’t been clear enough in respect of waiting a guest. Come on in._ "

"Hades? It is you? What... what did you do to the guardian, did you eat him?"

" _Not this time._ "

The gate opened automatically and Persephone placed her first foot shyly, hoping not to find a CSI crime scene near the gatehouse.

She found nothing gruesome, but what she saw shocked her anyway. Just a few steps on the pavement, in fact, and she saw two figures coming towards her. One was Hades: unmistakable, again in modern clothes, and for the occasion even in a simple shirt, without a jacket or tie, which for him was like a sloppy, domestic outfit. The other figure, on the other hand, was far more worrying: a huge, dark animal, with predator paws and massive, muscular build. The immense Hades, half Titan, barely reached its shoulders. And worse: there were three canine heads, all aiming at Persephone.

The Goddess froze and stood motionless, her lips pressed together.

"Oh, hello…"

"Don’t worry, he’s friendly" greeted Hades, serene, "let me introduce you to Cerberus."

Persephone observed the enormous animal and actually found him calm: he was breathing slowly, from all six nostrils, his dark chest expanding rhythmically like a powerful bellows. It was difficult to identify the species, he seemed more like a huge half-breed, a mixture of various races. The three heads were looking at her with raised ears and leaning curiously, all uncoordinated.

"Oh, um... he's... adorable..."

He really would have been, if only he hadn’t been of the size of a t-rex. But Hades, noticing her reluctance, took a step forward and invited her to stroke him.

Persephone obeyed, cautiously. She approached, noticing that she barely reached half the paw of that enormous beast. But she trusted Hades and then, timidly, reached out and stroked the shaggy dark grey fur, propped by some darker stain.

Cerberus reacted by opening his mouths, all of them, and letting the tongues hang. He seemed happy. A rhythmic, distant, muffled thud suggested to Persephone that he was wagging his tail on the ground.

"Excuse him, he's just territorial" said Hades, "he reunited when he heard the bell."

"What do you mean he _reunited_?"

But again, she almost had no time to finish the sentence, because she felt that Cerberus, under her hand, was trembling and _shrinking._ Persephone looked away from Hades and checked what was happening to the plural dog: in fact, he was gradually getting smaller. Eventually, when he had reached about the size of a horse, his transformation was even more explosive: he _split_ into three different dogs. Persephone remained with her hand midair, caressing nothing, as they began to run happily and absurdly normal.

"For convenience, he separates" said Hades, in the same neutral tone he put into obvious things, like a tour guide who had repeated the same thing too often, "if you don't mind, they’ll come with us to the Elysium, they need to run."

Persephone felt the flowers on her head renewing the colors: what kind of question was it? _Of course_ she didn't mind, she loved animals! Especially dogs, especially now that they seemed more within her reach.

The three were of different races. They had nothing to distinguish them from mortal dogs, except the size, a little larger than the average, more proportionate to their owner. Hades explained that they were three different personalities, so they preferred to remain divided. When they were together too long, they began to fight and bite one another, especially the central head and the one on the right, the most turbulent.

At that point, the presentations restarted, for those three dogs, specification of Cerberus. The first was Alpha, the central one, of the features of a semi-long-haired wolf dog. He was the most rigorous of the three and the dominant, the one who had the honor of governing the single body of Cerberus. The second was Dexio, a dark brown bullmastiff, the right head and the one giving the massive look at the body. And last one was Aristera, an elegant Dalmatian female, who kept the other two from becoming too violent and gave the darker spots Persephone had noticed on the fur of the gigantic guardian.

All three of them were exuberant and happy, and now they were jumping around the two Gods, fiddling with each other. Persephone was at bliss.

"My King!" She teased, excited, "I didn’t think you were an animal person! And the dogs, such exuberant!"

But he was always unperturbed and the veiled accusation to his coldness fell on him, in fact, coldly.

"I, instead, thought you were _an animal person_ , for some reason."

"They’re beautiful!"

"Oh, I know. Thanks."

And in those last words he was genuine. He looked proud, in his subtle and always neutral way of smiling. He appeared as a mere dog owner, and Persephone realized that he really loved all three of them. They weren’t just an infernal mastiff for him, he loved them as family. He wasn’t used in indulging in cuddles, perhaps, and certainly no one would ever see him rolling on the floor with them, or talking to them with stupid little voices; but he was very close to them and never missed an opportunity to pet them, or train them, or take them with him to the Elysian Fields. And that was perhaps the most unmentionable hobby he would never have admitted practicing.

As the day before, even if it was certainly not the only point of access, they passed through Hades’ rooms, followed by the three dogs, exuberant and excited. Since the bedroom with its terrace was really very high compared to the Elysium, near the dome of the cave and next to the upper part of the Lethe waterfall, they had to take a modern glass elevator. That way, Persephone had the opportunity to enjoy the fantastic view of the fields even before setting foot on the ground.

When they arrived, there was nothing between the elevator and the grass, and somehow it seemed absurd to Persephone. Not even a platform, or a step. The dogs obviously weren’t interested in those kinds of dilemmas: they all ran out like missiles.

Persephone came out more cautiously, dreamily, as if she wasn’t sure all that beauty was there, in front of her and for real: green fields, no people at all, and hills as far as the eye could see; the glittering Lethe that illuminated and warmed everything was magical, and the climate was so pleasurable on the bare skin.

She turned to Hades, happy, eager to get busy.

"This is fertile soil, isn't it?"

"The only one you'll find in the Underworld, I'm afraid. So, if you have to vent some power, this is the moment."

And yes, she had to. True, Persephone didn’t often use her powers, but at home she had always been able to make up for the care of the garden, or potted plants. There in the Underworld, in Dis at least, nothing grew, not even an apartment cactus. It was a while since she had let herself go, beyond the creation of some cut flowers for Hades, which, however, didn’t give the same satisfaction. It wasn't like planting a seed and growing a living creature.

Persephone, therefore, smiled irrepressibly. She took two more steps, then a deep breath. She felt the fresh and dewy grass touch her feet wrapped in sandals and she had an idea: if she really had to do that, she might as well exaggerate.

"Do you want to see what I'm capable of, your majesty?"

Hades smiled slyly. He raised his eyebrows a little, alluding.

"That’s all I ask, Divine."

Then Persephone bent down, undid her sandals and removed them. She placed her feet directly on the fertile ground. And suddenly it was an explosion of colors.

The flowers grew around her, abruptly and numerous. Even if she wanted to stop them, now, she would’ve failed. They expanded in every shape and color all around her, such as ink spreading from the tip of a fountain pen left too much time on the paper.

Persephone looked at Hades holding her chin high, proud of herself. With deep eyes he stared at the flowers first, then at her. He tilted his head and spread an oblique smile as he put his hands in his pockets.

"Looks like you have quite a lot to vent."

"I hadn't been walking on grass for years!" She admitted, cheerfully, then immediately frowned a little, "You know, I miss this on the surface. There is... asphalt everywhere."

They started walking. At each new step, new flowers bloomed in the area she touched. Hades, who was walking mechanically next to her, as if afraid of stepping on all that wealth, observed Persephone with fierce composure.

"You said that Spring wasn’t your path." He commented, with a gesture offering to bring her sandals and leave her hands free.

"And indeed it isn’t, not like... the only path. But anyway, I suffer if I spend too much time in the city, that’s why mom and I live outside. I mean... I and Demeter."

Hades chuckled.

"Call her whatever you want, she's your mother."

And suddenly, Persephone remembered her mother and missed her. She realized that she still didn’t know what the relationship between Demeter and Hades was. Cautious, she tried that way:

"I heard you call her Demi."

Hades immediately shrugged. He nodded and the rebellious curls, that day a little longer than usual, covered his clear forehead.

"I used to. When we were young."

"You two... were you close?"

"We were."

"How much?"

"Not as much as Zeus and Hera, if that's what worries you."

Persephone was silent, she didn’t know what to think. Actually, it was an ambiguous possibility that she had preferred never to take into consideration.

"Well, in my defense, what you Cronids do among yourselves isn’t very clear to the rest of us."

Hades was completely indifferent. As expected from an ancient God, he saw everything as consolidated, normal, and on those matters he never gave any sign of embarrassment or regret.

"What is there to understand? There were only six of us, if we wanted to give life to other Gods, we had to reproduce among ourselves. You shouldn’t be influenced by the human way of seeing the matter, Divine. Humans didn't even exist at that time."

"I try not to do it" she insisted on specifying, quickly, "but you know, sometimes it's difficult. My friends constantly remind me that in their eyes we all look like incestuous being. I tried to say that you're not... well, you know, it's not like you're actually my..."

And, at that moment, Hades surprised her even more: he stopped, remained motionless like a plaster statue. Persephone stopped as well, and the flowers continued to grow around her. The dogs, meanwhile, didn’t care for them and continued to play undeterred, free.

Hades sighed, meek as usual. He narrowed his eyes and tried to convey to her how serious he was about the subject.

"I _am_ your uncle, Persephone. Accept it."

"Y... yes, but..."

"No but. I am your uncle, you my niece. We are what we are and for us it's okay, because we are not humans. They’re a young, numerous race and therefore deluded to decide the moral. Let them keep it. We have our customs and our motivations, and you should never feel obliged to justify yourself with those who _don't know_."

It was true, there were innumerable reasons why the Gods were incestuous. At first it was necessary: the Cronids, as Hades had also said, were only six, and more than a choice it had been an obligation. From then on, the problems had changed in quality, not in quantity: Gods and mortals had never managed to get along very well, and this was the main reason why everyone, including Demeter, pushed for the Divines to be exclusively with other Divines. To love and marry humans, over time, had caused countless issues: demigods scattered all over the globe unable to control their own strength and ending up doing more harm than good, like Heracles; or even Gods destined to see their partners, not kissed by immortality, wither away and leave, experiencing the brevity of life so cruelly.

So yes, there were valid reasons why they preferred to build their relationships among themselves, especially since there were no genetic problems for them. But in any case, Persephone had always felt embarrassed about the subject. She had always thought that the best way to deal with the topic was to pretend that there weren’t family relations _at all_. And now Hades was talking about it with such cold naturalness…

"Listen, Hades" she confessed, sincerely, "I know you're used to it, those were different times, but I... I was born in the 90s, okay? I’ve always been among humans and... I don't know, it seems so strange to them, they shiver if they think you and I are..."

"Then let them shiver. You shouldn’t care, Divine. "

"They judge us."

"Let them judge. When they’ll be here, they’ll have the same treatment."

Persephone wasn’t convinced, and Hades had certainly noticed. In fact, now he was sighing, softened. Maybe he was looking for an alternative way to explain her. At some point he approached and lowered himself on one knee, pulling his trousers up a little to bend.

Persephone saw him at her height, now, in front, near. The aquiline nose pointed like a bird of prey, but there was always his usual calmness in his contrasting eyes. The young Goddess had to be careful not to stare at them too much.

"Kore, you don't have to consider me your uncle, if you don't want to" he specified, logical and pragmatic, "if it can be of any help, I don't consider you my niece emotionally, you're just a beautiful Goddess of fertility who makes me the gift of her interest, of which I am honored. But I would be really _destroyed_ hearing you deny belonging to my family in front of a human. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it, it’s the noblest lineage in the universe."

"I didn't mean to offend you..."

"I know. But the next time they ask you if I’m your uncle, don’t deny it. For your own reputation, and the reputation of the family."

From a certain point of view she understood, of course, but not entirely. She couldn’t understand why he was always so obsessed with status.

But if there was a positive side of Persephone’s personality, it was the ability to put herself in the shoes of another, including Hades. So yes, she kept believing that he needed to lower the standards, and maybe also try to get closer to those humans he thought were so inferior; but, on the other hand, even she herself had to learn something from him: to recognize her own role, her place, if not in the universe, at least in that small world, so crowded with both humanity and divinity.

What impressed her most about the Elysium, after she had spent a few minutes there, was that it seemed so empty. Hades had explained that, like Dis, the Elysian Fields were infinite: one could walk forever and not get anywhere. That’s why all the souls of all the righteous who lived there seemed so rare to meet.

They had to wait, then, but in the end someone showed up on their way: a small group of grayish shadows. They were together, walking on the banks of the Lethe, laughing and playing: they were all children. First, they were spotted by the Dalmatian, the most sociable of the Cerberi, who threw herself among them to play jumping and barking, her tail wagging like a whip.

The children were of various ages, both male and female, but none of them appeared to be accompanied by an adult and none of them exceeded ten years. Persephone knew why: it was the age Hades began to consider crucial, the beginning of the end of innocence. All the departed souls before that age had guaranteed access to the Elysian Fields, but after the age of ten, instead, they began to be evaluated more rigorously. According to Persephone it was still too early, but it was also true that there were very young and very guilty people: she still had nightmares, after studying the Thompson and Venables case at the University.

But Persephone tried not to think of anything negative at that moment and to enjoy the company of those little ones. She ran to them, skirting the glittering Lethe and feeling the warmth of the waters even from a distance. She joined them and immediately they welcomed her, celebrated her as Spring.

"Kore!"

Persephone looked around and saw him: there was Alexios. He was one of those at the edge of the group, the shortest, but still unmistakable in his dark hair and too long fringe.

"Alexios! Come here, hug me!"

He obeyed: he ran and went to hug her. Squeezing him, breathing over his small shoulder, Persephone felt the cold of the memory of his body. She squeezed it harder, in a vain attempt to warm it up.

"How are you, lil’ one? Do you like here?"

They broke away and Persephone noticed with great pleasure that Alexios was smiling. Not very talkative and in this very similar to Hades, he answered only by nodding.

"Good! I'm happy. You have so many new friends here, I see!"

He nodded again. Persephone smiled at him, warm, encouraging, and cuddled his shoulders. Then, realizing that she was alone, she turned: she noticed that Hades hadn’t joined them. He was standing far away, facing the Lethe, looking towards the horizon with his hands in the pockets and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up.

"Hey? Come here!"

He looked at her from a distance, only moving his head. He didn't answer, but Persephone could still see the negation emanating from his figure.

He didn't want to join them, he didn't want to get involved. He certainly didn't want to have anything to do with humans, even if they were shadows, even if they were children. But perhaps it was more than that: he didn't come near because the children themselves were afraid of him. They were, in fact, scrutinizing him from time to time to check that he stayed away.

The King of the Underworld: shunned by all his subjects, unable to remedy.

Persephone rose to her feet after embracing Alexios and turned to all the children, at least a dozen:

"Hey, would you like to meet my friend?"

Silence. Someone less shy didn’t hesitate to shake their head.

"Don’t worry, he’s good. He's just serious, but we can cheer him up."

The children were easy to convince, and even more because they were now shadows: nothing could upset them in the Elysian Fields, and so they quickly changed their minds. In fact, although cautious, they accepted: they began to move like a group with a collective conscience, all together, Alexios a little behind due to his short legs.

When he saw that they were reaching him, Hades stiffened, Persephone was able to notice it from his tense neck and his eyes, darker and yet lighter than ever, which were wide open in a vague hint of human terror.

They joined him. The children didn't surround him as they had done with Persephone, but they remained in his presence to stare at him, all in all curiously.

Hades breathed in and seemed to double his already enormous size. Persephone, aware that he would never do anything to move the situation, placed herself between the two poles. She put her hand on his clear, venous, cold forearm. She looked up, smiling encouragingly.

"They’re here for you, your Majesty. They’re the inhabitants of your kingdom."

But he stiffened his jaw as he looked at her, motionless. He exhaled powerfully, nervous and, as always, good at not showing it too much. Finally, he turned his head a little, as if hiding, to speak only to her.

"I'm the one who separated them from their parents, Kore."

Persephone smiled again and cuddled his arm more vigorously. Because she knew he was a self-confident God only when it came to his role. On the contrary, he would always need help in social relations. Persephone felt she was the best person to improve his quality of life, at least in that humble aspect.

"You’re also the one who gave them paradise, and they know it. Let them thank you."

Hades swallowed with his bulging Adam's apple. Finally, he turned back to the children. He removed his hand from his pocket and held it up in a greeting form, too mechanical.

"Good afternoon."

He was way too formal, used to dealing with adults only. Persephone burst out laughing and the children followed her, beaming, easy to cheer in that warm and welcoming atmosphere.

"He's a little scared, poor thing, cheer him up!"

The children, now without fear, were happy to obey. Because they had already looked in Hades’ eyes, they had already passed beyond his judgment, and they knew they had nothing more to fear.

Persephone found it funny to see Hades entangled in that situation: tall, immense, surrounded by a group of dwarves who on average could just reach his knee. It was lovely that he was so intimidated by so tiny creatures in comparison. And even more, it was adorable that, though he tried to hide it, a shy smile was appearing on his face. It was at that moment that Persephone was able to complete the puzzle with another piece: it was difficult to love the Inexorable just because it was difficult for him to love himself. In this respect, humans had so much to teach him.

Only one of the tiny shadows seemed less enthusiastic: that of Alexios, for understandable reasons. He was the new arrival, he had just passed from the courtroom and still remembered the Inexorable look on himself, the confusion in the room, the cold questions of Aeacus.

Hades noticed it, because he never failed to observe every single detail, in any situation. Persephone saw his face darken as he stared at Alexios with a neutral gaze. In the end, leaving the Goddess astonished, it was Hades himself approaching the child, kneeling on the grass quietly. Perhaps he had done it just because he now was feeling enmeshed in the situation, but it didn't matter: he was showing a very _human_ side to other humans, and Persephone thought it would’ve required him much more time.

He continued to stare at Alexios, at the back of the group. Finally, after moments of absolute immobility, he raised an arm, signaling him to come closer.

Persephone was smiling and petrified looking at the scene, while Alexios walked towards the God of the Underworld with a thousand tiny little steps and the fringe always before his eyes.

He reached him, stopped only a step away. He stood there motionless, and the God on his knees. The other children around had stopped cackling, realizing the importance of the moment.

The silence was total for what seemed like hours. Finally, the ever-present sigh of Hades, powerful and profound.

"Are you sad, child?"

Persephone pursed her lips, forcing herself not to intervene, even though she thought the question was a little obvious, not to say stupid. But Hades was like this: as intuitive for the faults of mortals, as he was unaware of their emotions.

Alexios nodded.

"A little. But it's nice here."

Hades didn’t show exaggerated reactions, but Persephone now knew him enough to be able to read the silent pleasure in his expression. He was happy: happy that someone could appreciate that Elysium that, to the actual, was a selfless gift to the best souls. He never received enough compliments for his work, the other Gods had never been interested and never missed an opportunity to debase the kingdom of the underground. Perhaps, over the millennia, the same Hades had ended up forgetting how much good he could bring.

"I'm sorry for your father." The Inexorable said, a personal consideration that he would’ve never expressed during a hearing.

"I know."

Only then did Alexios look up and he had the courage to look at his interlocutor in the eyes. An interlocutor who was nothing less than a Cronid, and who had also been deeply struck by how much confidence a child could have in using his favorite verb: _to know._

Death and children, very similar indeed.

"You also know that you can drink from the river, right? Did they explain it to you?"

Alexios nodded.

"If I drink, I'll come back alive."

"You will resurrect, yes. You will have a new life, a new family, and forget your father."

But Hades for sure already knew the answer that was about to come.

"I don't want a new family."

Because he wanted the original one. The prospect of having a new father couldn’t be contemplated, if it meant abandoning the previous one; forgetting him, even, through the waters of the Lethe, the River of Oblivion.

Hades nodded. He understood him. And he made the most human gesture he could: he stroked Alexios’ head, ruffling his hair with the huge hand.

"Then you’ll have to learn to wait. Like all of us."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have just two words for the next chapter: thermal baths.   
> Now you can start drooling. 😏😂


	17. Waiting for everything

The humanity of the other Gods was often the object of reflection by Persephone, at least as much as it was her own divinity. She had wondered how much humanity there was in her mother Demeter, while she basked in the attentions of mortals and taught them the secrets of agriculture; she had wondered how much humanity there was in Anubis, who never missed an opportunity to laugh, make jokes and appear so open towards mortals; she had wondered how much humanity there was in Hades, who contrary to many others shunned the attentions of mortals and even seemed not to care about the souls that he himself received.

Not very much, she would have said. Not very much humanity in him.

Yet Persephone was tempted to change her mind, seeing him interact with those children. He behaved halfway, to tell the truth: he smiled, but tried to make it look forced; he enjoyed himself, but never exaggerated. It was as if he were convinced he couldn’t afford the luxury of disinterested interaction, although he was grateful and equally unable to admit it, because of his immortal pride of God and King.

For these reasons, when it was time to say goodbye, Persephone liked to think that the always neutral and impartial features of the Inexorable concealed a certain regret, even if only in minimal percentage.

"Can I invite myself back here next Saturday?" Asked the Goddess, looking at him from below and noticing a slight contraction at the corner of his jaw.

"If it pleases you, Divine, I can only allow you to be with these mortals as much as you want."

Persephone smiled slyly, conscious of having given him a good excuse to realize a desire that was of both, not only hers.

"Thank you, my King. And I grant you to blame me in front of others, when you’ll realize that you too love the company of these mortals."

An attitude of amused annoyance in his eyes, then he looked away, and got lost admiring the flow of the Lethe.

They walked the river aimlessly, followed by the dogs, which, though free, didn’t run away and remained always around their owner, loyal and well trained. They met some other soul, but they were all lonely. Persephone observed their isolated peace with curiosity and respect, wondering how many of them would finally choose to drink the waters of oblivion to reincarnate. A gift granted only to the rightful inhabitants of the Elysium, and even more generous precisely because it was granted by Hades, one of the greediest Gods.

Towards evening, finally, Persephone asked for a break, as she was tired of walking. She stopped on the grassy bank of the river, deprived of sand or pebbles, and finally let herself lie down. She extended her arms upward, stretching as the flowers grew all around her, and thinking that she could sleep for hours lying there, such was the quiet emanating from that place.

She glanced at Hades, standing stoically beside her. It annoyed her to see him there, never relaxed and never at ease, it was like having a vulture flying around. Then she pulled the edge of his trousers a little, to call him. He looked down, his hands in his pockets and the formal attitude.

"Lie down, my King."

"Sounds like an order, doesn’t it, Divine?"

Persephone chuckled impertinent.

"Does it offend you?"

"It could."

"Then I’ll reformulate: would you like to lie down, my King?"

"I really wouldn’t like it, no. Reformulate again."

Persephone narrowed her eyes, silently challenging him. He, in response, had an ambiguous smile painted on his pale and hairless face.

" _Can you lie down and do it for me, my King?_ "

"Willingly. Everything for you."

And, in fact, at the third and final notice, he obeyed: he sat and finally lay down. When he leaned on the ground it seemed even more a titan, how heavy he was.

Silence fell over them like a light, cozy blanket. As Persephone had already noted, Hades' silences were never embarrassing, they always had something natural in them. As it was natural, now, to stay beside him, reaching out and barely brushing against his cold forearm skin.

Persephone heard him sigh peacefully as soon as she touched him, then took it as an endorsement to continue: she ran his fingers over his wrist, and finally took his hand, holding it tight.

She also sighed and looked back up. The infinite vault of the cave shone with the richness of Erebus, illuminated by the blue reflections of the Lethe. The diamonds up there looked like small galaxies.

"They’re so many..." she commented dreamily, admired.

Hades squeezed her hand a little, looking up too, without moving.

"They’re endless, Divine" pointed out, precise and pleased, "as endless will ever be my desire to gift them to you. All you have to do is ask."

And as soon as he said it, Persephone felt something in their still tight hands. She frowned, raised her head a little to see better. When she untied her hand from Hades', she saw that many small transparent diamonds remained on her palm, sparkling like and more than the Lethe. They looked almost like dust. Only then did she realize that the rumors about him weren’t all true: he didn’t have a cornucopia to generate diamonds. He generated them himself.

With her thumb he cuddled the precious dust, ecstatic.

"Your offers for courtship purposes are always very challenging."

The joke caused him a deep laugh with closed lips.

"Not as challenging is trying to please you, my Lady. I certainly can't offer you flowers."

And, for the first time since she had known him, Persephone saw him making a gesture truly out of his comfort zone: he turned his head, leaning it sideways on the grass to stare at her, and winked with a smile. A gesture so simple, so natural, yet so unsuitable for the Inexorable.

Noting that he was entering a moment of rare, sarcastic playfulness, the Goddess increased:

"More than to please me, I have the impression that you do it to please yourself. You seem too proud of your diamonds, my King."

And, as had happened to her several times, Persephone immediately felt to have dared too much. Because Hades was like that: he had a sudden way of darkening, becoming serious, and that eternal neutrality that enveloped his features gave the impression, almost always wrong, that he was angry or offended.

But no, he usually wasn’t, and neither was that time. In fact, he didn’t say or do anything improper. Just, he raised himself up on one elbow, facing her, shielding her, never touching her.

Persephone felt rushed by his large, dead-colored irises.

"I'm proud of them, yes. Shouldn’t I?"

It was a rhetorical question, which made by a Cronid didn’t allow any answer, much less as a challenge. Then Persephone inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of excitement on her stomach, having him so close. She raised a hand and touched his neck, slender in its proportions, but imposing for her. She ran the hand through the drawn tendons and the veins.

She couldn’t say anything, and so he resumed his speech, serious and penetrating.

"What do you think, _little girl,_ that it was easy to do all this?" His voice was just a low hiss, sensual, allusive "When my brothers and I split the creation, do you think it was easy for me, the _firstborn male_ , to voluntarily give up my lawful rights on the surface, the most tempting of the kingdoms? Do you think it was easy to have the necessary _foresight_ to invest in a kingdom that everyone considered a sterile mass of rocks? Do you think it was easy to find patience and perseverance to dig Erebus from nothing?"

Many other rhetorical questions, which, like the first, didn’t allow any kind of answer. They were only insinuations, that all together brought out that immense pride of which, indeed, Persephone was afraid. She feared it because in herself she had never felt it, and somehow all Gods took it for granted it was a lack.

Persephone said nothing and never stopped touching his neck, sometimes lacing behind it and letting her fingers slide in the soft black curls. And finally Hades, after his vehement speech, seemed to be starting to feel the effects of carnal closeness. He raised a hand, then, and carried it to the side of his companion's face. He didn't do much: with his thumb, he touched her parted lips. He sighed gently and lowered his eyelids calm and yet boiling with lust.

"All I have, Divine, is the result of my wisdom" he continued, still with closed eyes, lingering with the finger on her lips, as if in reality all the wealth he was talking about was worth nothing compared to her flesh, "So yes, I am very proud of my diamonds, my palace and everything I can boast of. Because everything I own, even the smallest piece of rough diamond, or the humblest human soul, is the ineluctable proof that I am smarter than my brothers, and that I am the only one who really leads the game. A game that has a single possible ending: me, winning and taking _everything_."

Persephone remained motionless, rigid under his touch. Not out of fear, but because the vastness of his ambition crushed her, almost physically.

She tried to speak, barely moving her lips against his still pressed thumb, and felt that her voice was missing.

"Ev... everything, Hades? It’s... too vast as a claim."

Never imply before a God that something is too much for him. In fact, he let out a sarcastic, deep and terrifying laugh. Not malignant, Hades was never, but in any case frightening to the amount of certainty it transmitted. The laughter of someone who was so sure of his claims, that he had already won everything. An emotion that Persephone had never felt for herself and was sure to never feel.

Hades leaned over her, sticking his face in the hollow between her neck and her shoulder. Persephone felt him breathe on her bare skin and finally give her a cold, fatal kiss. She felt like dying of coldness, her heart instantly frozen, as she arched beneath him and his eyes narrowed with a cold passion.

Finally, his grave voice touched her ear.

"Everything is nothing more and nothing less than the just claim of death, Divine. All it has to do is _waiting_."

And so the Inexorable turned out to be such in many other ways, by no means limited to the courtroom. Hades was the master of death, and he who masters death masters everything. Because everything must die, even the Gods sooner or later, in a time beyond destiny and even beyond the forecast of the Moirai. But it was certain that _everything_ would end in the Underworld, and then the perseverance of his King would have been repaid with the vast and eternal dominion that Zeus and Poseidon could only envy. Without bloody battles, without arrogant and impulsive pretensions that would have only brought instability: for Hades, haste was a worthless concept. Inexorable because it is inexorable the end of the world: he preferred _waiting_ by river for the bodies of his enemies, _certain_ that they would float by. 

The degree of confidence and patience, ambition and pride Hades conveyed was too much to bear, for anyone who wasn’t a greater God, for anyone who wasn’t himself. A new Goddess could nothing to sustain all the magnificence of a Cronid, as bulky as all his siblings, and in all possible ways.

For this she felt crushed, even though he barely touched her, and only with his face. While he planted frozen kisses on her neck and lobe, she felt all his lust, which he only had pretended not to feel. How could a God who desires everything not feel carnal desire as well?

Suddenly, Persephone felt a sort of sweet anxiety grow in her body. It made her arch, stiffen again. Finally, a sudden thought, like an arrow in her brain: the need to stop him, to be honest before the situation carried them both away more than they had expected.

She blocked him, then, patting her hand on his imposing shoulder a couple of times.

"Hades, Hades" she inhaled, agitated, "I’m a virgin."

And, instantly, he froze. He immediately put a stop to his seduction and withdrew with his face. Almost nothing remained of their contact, except for his hand to touch her hair.

"I’m mortified" he said, flatly, "I didn't mean to be rash."

Rash, Hades? No, quite the opposite.

He was never impulsive, he was never rushed. He had done nothing inconvenient. Kisses, what else? And so detached as to never give the idea he intended to demand more in that one occasion.

But it was precisely what he _didn't_ do to suggest a thousand underlying meanings: the way he _didn't_ touch her with the rest of his body, hinting that he wanted to; his _never_ being fast, his lingering so slow, giving the idea he was holding himself back; his _not_ trying to grab her breasts or thighs, building the expectation of how relentless it would be when he decided to do it; and, finally, his _not_ speaking, which made clear how many concepts he had to transmit, concepts too vast to understand, which were violating her no less than a physical penetration.

But now the Cronid had already stepped aside, giving way to Hades the man, always gentle and always polite, who imposed and demanded nothing. Persephone was finally able to exhale, feeling lightened.

"No, sorry, it's nothing. I wanted to tell you... it just came out."

A half-truth, in order to hide how much she had let herself be carried away; perhaps, she was ready to admit it, by her own inexperience. But she wasn't at all sure he believed it, because it was actually impossible to hide anything from him. Now, in fact, he was looking at her neutral, so close that Persephone could see the thin darker capillaries, in the black of his sclera.

"These odd statements _just come out_ of you very often, Kore."

That, although expressed in a neutral tone, was a joke, so Persephone adapted accordingly:

"Because I am the rash one. But I know you like it, your Majesty. I wouldn’t be here if that question on the Styx didn’t _just come out_ , at the conference."

He spread a sharp smile.

"Surely you wouldn't be here, no."

Now he was calm, peaceful as only the God of immortal patience could be. And, in fact, he didn’t insist on the previous attitude. He just placed a slow and chaste kiss on her forehead, and then retreated completely, laying down beside her, in peace.

When they returned it was late evening, almost dinner time. Persephone was as reluctant as the dogs to leave the unlimited green of the Elysian Fields: Hades had almost to pray her to get in the elevator. When her second foot broke away from the fertile ground and the last flower was born from her power, she felt torn away, like a corolla cut by its stem.

As the elevator went up slowly, she put her sandals on the ground and started to put them back on. But Hades, without even warning her, bent and offered to fasten the straps, a gesture that caused him a veiled good humor.

"Once this would’ve been scandalous." He commented in a low voice, and sounded like a statement he had expressed to himself, disapproving his own behavior.

Persephone didn't know what to say and she was silent, barely holding back a tremor because of the tickling he was causing to her ankles. Then, finally, the elevatordoor opened again to the palace, in the apartments of the King. Immediately the dogs threw themselves on the polished obsidian floor and remained there, breathless and with falling tongues. Persephone cuddled the smooth and velvety fur of Aristera, the most prone to fussiness. She reminded her very much of herself.

Hades, meanwhile, said nothing. His natural state was that of silence, as always, and at the moment he was checking his clothes on a wall mirror, in that environment so dark, ancient and modern at the same time. Persephone watched him examine the sleeves of his white shirt and then put the collar in place, impeccably.

Suddenly, Persephone felt a little guilty about what happened just before. Not that it was anything serious, but she was sorry to give him the idea that she wanted even more coldness on his part. That was not her purpose at all. She just wanted to be honest, she had never intended to drive him away, denying that she liked his sensual initiatives. She was an adult after all, she could and had to admit it: _oh, Gods, Hades stirs my hormones, I was enjoying it and I want him to do it again._

She decided to express the same concept with more decorum.

"Hey, Hades, do you want to do something tonight? I didn't want to seem cold."

But he, as usual, had larger plans, of which he rarely set apart the others. He turned to her, in fact, while she was still crouched cuddling Aristera, and he expressed his wishes without any hesitation.

"You're my guest at dinner, I had vegetarian dishes prepared. And, for what it's worth, it would never occur to me to call you _cold_ , Spring. That's me, and one cold party is enough for a couple."

The statement made her laugh out loud, and if there was still a minimum of embarrassment, at that moment it disappeared.

She stayed there, then, and got to explore the environment better, while they waited for dinner to be served. Hades' chamber, Persephone noted, was much more than a simple bedroom. Although it was a largely dedicated to that role, on the side, raised by a few steps from the main area, there was a smaller addition, a more private space, carved out of rock. Pushing aside the heavy curtain that divided the rooms, the Goddess realized that it was a bathroom. In the most classic sense of the term: there was only a huge, deep basin, surrounded by columns. It entered into the rock to create a very intimate atmosphere, embellished by the exposed golden veins in the rough wall, and by the ceramics adorned with frames on the bottom of the pool.

"Oh, wow!" Was the comment of the Goddess, wide-eyed, "you treat yourself very well, don’t you?"

"I treat myself as it’s proper." He pointed out that he had joined her side.

"I'm starting to think it was a mistake not to accept your hospitality."

For a moment, he had to believe it, because he gave her a hopeful, wide-eyed look. But Persephone immediately pursed her lips and shook her head, letting him know that her decision to have her own apartment remained unchanged. Yes, it was all undeniably very beautiful, but only as an occasional guest. She wouldn’t have been able to manage such a luxury on her own, she would’ve kept thinking she didn’t deserve it.

Hades didn't insist, because he was someone who didn't like to beg. Then he dropped the subject and offered something more affordable:

"If you want to freshen up, I'll have the bath prepared. It's thermal water, it’s healthy."

Actually, Persephone was tempted to accept. Having been lying on the ground and having played on the grass with the dogs, she felt her skin itchy, and she was aware that she still had some dirt on her clothes. She looked down at herself, in fact, and noticed that she had a green patch on her knee. That was what convinced her. No influence on her decision had the fact that she hoped to take that bath with Hades. No influence, _at all_.

"I gladly accept, your Majesty. And you? Will you keep me company?"

"Only if you wish to."

She took his arm as she had done so many times, then squeezed the hollow of his elbow, looking up at him.

"I wish."

He raised one of his thick eyebrows and looked at her sideways, undecided, for once in his life.

"Do you also wish... something to cover up?"

He hinted that it wasn’t customary to cover in thermal baths, and on the other hand Persephone already knew it. It was a fairly common practice among the Classic Gods to indulge in baths also for social purposes, and it was universally recognized that it was a sacred and cathartic occasion, inviolable like the duties of hospitality. Both sexes usually participated naked and without embarrassment. Seductions weren’t allowed if in a group, because it was a ritual, a tradition. Persephone herself had participated in a few meetings, with her mother mainly, but once also with Hermes, and again with some satyrs; famous, these last ones, because they were often devoted to carnal passion and orgies, yet on that occasion they didn’t make any hint of interest in a fertility Goddess who, otherwise, would’ve turned them on from the hooves to the tip of the horns.

For these reasons, Persephone appreciated that the gallantry of an old-fashioned man like Hades went so far as to offer her a bath with a swimsuit on, only to meet her modesty.

Persephone shrugged.

"No, it's not a problem, if it isn't for you." She teased him, rubbing against him with the side of her body, in a playful, allusive and lively gesture.

He adjusted to her tone:

"For me it certainly isn't, Kore. I'm not the one who: _Hades, Hades, I'm a virgin._ "

He was always brutally direct, even when he was joking scolded him with an exaggerated frown.

"I told you it just came out!"

"If you repeat it again, I'll end up believing it."

He left her space while she was undressing. Persephone remained alone on the pool edge, taking off her clothes and sandals, untangling her frizzy wavy hair. She touched the crown of flowers and noticed that they had become small roses, certainly red, given how many hormones were flowing in her body that evening.

She sighed, decided not to make a big deal, and carefully dipped her foot in the thermal water. It was scorching and for a moment she wondered how Hades would’ve been able to resist such a temperature.

Taking courage, she went down the slippery tiled steps. It took her a while to get used to it, while the heat invigorated her skin and muscles, and the steam gravitating on the surface of the water cleaned her nostrils.

She laid down a little, finding the first step a little too high for her proportions: the water was already reaching her breasts, when it was thought to be at the waist, at the size of the Cronids.

While she was lulled by the semi-dark and precious atmosphere, she heard that maids had come into the bedroom with dinner. The distant voice of Hades ordered them to bring the dishes to the pool. Immediately afterwards, they penetrated the room, pushing aside the curtains: three cave nymphs, with dark skin and hair of the same color.

They were happy, as were all the nymphs, and helpful. They left what looked like food imported from the surface, perhaps found especially for her: fresh fruit and vegetarian finger food. The nymphs also left two glasses and some red wine that Persephone didn’t know, but looked very expensive, even just from the French name. Eventually, the maids took leave, repeating a thousand times over that if Persephone needed anything, they would’ve been at her full service.

Persephone slipped more into the water, up to her chin, and surprised herself to think that, after all, to really live like that would’ve been really cool. Damn her and her pride, which had made her give up six months of unbridled luxury. 

She rolled her eyes, forcing herself to regain her dignity and remain steadfast on the decision, even though she knew that Hades was looking forward to her slightest doubt, to offer her again the accommodation in the palace. To console herself, she took one of the spinach rolls that had been served and ate it with one bite.

It was at that very moment that Hades joined her. Persephone, from behind, noticed it only because she heard him coming, pushing aside the heavy curtains. She took her eyes away from the rolls she was contemplating with gluttony and straightened forward, facing the rock wall.

"You've already started, good."

She squeezed her own shoulders, guilty.

"The rolls were provoking me." She joked, forcing herself never to look back at him, convinced he was already naked. She realized that she was right as soon as he set foot in the water, when Persephone could see his bare calf out of the corner of her eye.

She stiffened with wide eyes, trying to hold back the laughter. Damned, damned, embarrassed laugh, she hated it. She laughed when she was embarrassed, she cried when she was angry... her emotions were so monstrously obvious that sometimes she bothered herself. She wondered at that moment how someone like Hades, so flat, could not find her annoying.

She waited until he had taken a couple of steps and sat down with water at his navel, beside her. Persephone, forcing herself not to be shy, sighed and removed the arms with which she was hugging her chest, leaving her breasts exposed beneath the surface of the water.

Finally, she decided to take courage and look at him, so as not to give the impression of being too embarrassed. She turned, then, but immediately the smile died on her lips, because what she saw shocked her.

Hades was wounded.

Of old, _ancient_ wounds, but no less frightening. Four long white scars crossed his pale chest from side to side, affecting his muscles and abdominals. They hugged his massive body, from his left shoulder to his right side, and there was no doubt that they must have been terrible, when they were open. Even deadly, if only a Cronid could have died.

Persephone, forgetting all modesty, turned with her whole body towards him, with her eyes wide open and her suffering expression. Because that was her power: Hades _knew_ , she instead _felt_. Her feeling included the emotions of others, but also some serious physical conditions. That was why, with one hand, she leaned towards him, distraught, but with the other she touched his own chest, suffering from a distant memory of the pain from which those marks had been generated.

"Hades, what… what happened to you?"

He sighed, his chest moving slowly and calmly, expanding those scars and, in some way, making them even more prominent.

"Cronus."

When he didn't want to talk about something, he really made it clear, barely answering, with mismatched words, without adding details. Persephone knew that she shouldn’t investigate further. But inside, deep down, she wondered how it was possible that those terrible marks had been inflicted on him by his father.

Of course, she knew the theory, the story: Cronus devouring his children and then the Titanomachy to remove him, and finally Hades himself who locked him up in Tartarus. But how? How could a father do such a thing?

Persephone approached a little, suffering as much as him. She put her hand on his chest and asked permission to touch him, only with an eloquent look. He, equally silent, nodded his head.

Persephone touched one of the white scars, still a little in relief if she paid attention. She ran her forefinger along it, following the reliefs and troughs of the muscles: she understood that it was the mark left by a claw.

A single, sudden scratch, which had almost gutted a Cronid.

She suddenly realized how immense a real Titan must be. She was afraid of it. The fear for Cronus descended on her, partly because of her own emotions, partly because of the ones from Hades, who still had mixed feelings for his parent. Persephone knew that kind of fear: it was the same one she had felt in Demeter, the few times she had spoken of ancient times.

The Goddess raised her eyes to Hades' face. He was neutral, as usual. But of a melancholy neutrality, full of memories and regrets.

"I'm sorry... _Aidoneus_."

He closed his eyes feeling himself called by his original name, the most private, which had been used only by his sisters.

When he raised his eyelids, he was calm, peaceful. He reached out and stroked her hair, bringing it behind her ear, in a gesture that perhaps he needed more than anything else to distract himself, to forget.

"Don’t worry. They’re just old wounds, they’re no longer important."

Persephone knew that they were still important to him, but she took the suggestion at once and forced herself not to make him sad. Quite the opposite: she was the Spring, wasn't she? Her role was to bring joy. Then she sighed one last time and left the exploration of his chest. She sat back straight, getting close enough to touch him and stay in contact with his cool skin, in that burning water.

"Strawberry?" She asked, playful and comforting, taking one of the fruits and offering it to him. He, without answering, bent and bit it, cutting it in half. Persephone ate the rest and felt at peace.

The evening proceeded normal, cheerful, and Persephone always felt at ease. Once the first few minutes had passed, she no longer felt embarrassed about her nudity. Everything became very natural, certainly thanks to the always graceful attitude of Hades, who never dared to even touch her, if she wasn’t the first to approach. The fact that he let her choose everything, even how many inches of distance to maintain, instead of putting her in a position of uncertainty helped her, gave her the feeling of being in full control. And, needless to say, it wasn’t something that had happened very often, in her life. Not only in a loving environment: being a Goddess of fertility attracted everyone, even journalists, who for that reason became so urgent with her and not with other Gods. Persephone's personal space was often broken, and she had almost thought it would always be that way, especially in a relationship. And instead, it never was with Hades. And she was grateful for those little omissions that in reality were a real declaration of respect.

They talked about this and that, above all they gossiped about other Gods. Neither of them liked gossip, but every once in a while it was nice to get lost teasing others, especially those who thought they were too important. The very blond Apollo, for example, who didn’t leave Olympus without all the nine Muses. When he went around with them, he looked like a pilot surrounded by adoring hostesses. Persephone also admitted that she had a teenage crush on him at thirteen: she still had his poster in her room in Rome, hung inside the wardrobe door. She also promised not to have taken it to Erebus, after Hades had feigned resentment at having been put in competition with a God _of light._

They laughed and dined, drank wine and laughed again. Only when the evening started to get late and Persephone mentioned being tired, Hades dared to introduce a topic that he had apparently kept inside since before dinner.

"Kore, thanks for the day. I enjoyed myself. But I wanted to apologize for what happened before. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Persephone shook her head sincerely. She put her hand on his, immersed in water and lying on the ceramic. She reassured him.

"No, you did nothing wrong. I was just running with imagination."

But he pursed his lips thinly, skeptical.

"You must not sweeten the truth, I know my _bad aura_ " he spoke, honestly, "In court it's fine, but when it comes to more intimate relationships... let's just say I'm used to it. But it's not intentional, I swear."

At that moment Persephone had the feeling that for Hades it had always been very difficult to approach women. Maybe that was why he had no concubines. Perhaps that was why he had learned to be so gallant.

"Hades, don't worry, really. It's not your fault, it's just that... I got nervous, nothing happened. "

"Do you get _nervous_ even during the hearings?"

A question that wasn’t a question: they both knew that it was difficult for her to deal with him at work. But it was the first time they talked about it openly.

"Yes, but don't take me too seriously. It's a sense of awe, I feel it with a lot of people. With the other Gods, with my mother, even with university professors. Don’t worry, it’s not you and it’s not going to last, I just need to get used. Don’t tell me now that you’re _impatient_ , huh?"

"Never, Divine."

He smiled at her obliquely. Then, perhaps seeing her quiet after the speech she had just given, he dared a little more: he put his hand on her knee, never too allusive. With his thumb he began to trace light circles around the bone.

"Can I ask you a question?" He said, cautious, shy: he always was, when he talked about emotions.

"Sure, tell me."

"Don't take it personally, but a virgin Goddess of fertility... let's say it's a quality I appreciate, but I didn't dare to hope for. Why?"

Persephone laughed and disapproved of his excessive frankness. But she didn’t argue, because she appreciated it: she preferred naked truth to sweetened courtesies. And to be honest, she already knew that all the Gods, but above all the oldest ones, still gave value to virginity, so nothing new had been brought to the table.

"Oh, you know, I had a couple of stories" the Goddess shrugged, "I'm not totally inexperienced, I mean. Only, I've never done anything, um... penetrative. I think there's never been the right time with the right person, that’s all. No one has ever proved to be worth it."

And suddenly, there was a flash in the deep eyes of the Cronid. A sly, almost even malicious smile, and Persephone was prepared to receive a violent blow of sarcasm.

"Oh, here comes _your_ divine pride. Very good, Divine Persephone."

"No! I didn't mean worth it... physically..."

But he was giggling and staring at her as if he had discovered an embarrassing secret.

"No, of course, you meant it as _social class_. You felt superior to human partners."

Persephone felt her cheeks burn and probably become the same color as the roses on her head. She looked away, unable to stop chuckling. But Hades leaned forward to look at her, playful.

"You can admit it with me, Divine. As far as I'm concerned, yours was a very good choice. I dare not imagine your _disappointment_ after sleeping with a mortal, especially a man. For the most part, they have been blessed neither by Eros’ beauty, nor by Priapus’ dimensions."

She turned, laughing, and pushed him playfully. He slumped to the side on the edge of the pool, and it was obvious he had done it on purpose, but Persephone wanted to believe she had put enough strength into it for real.

She pointed a finger at him.

"First of all, you’re just _deducting_ all by yourself that my partners were male" that caused him a flash of lust in his smile, "and then, if you really want to make a comparison with those of your gender, don't make fun of them. You know what they say? That _short_ men are gifted with big _dimensions_ , and so, well… I have bad news for you, my King."

"Oh, Divine, remember these words, because you will retract them when you have experienced how it is to spend the night with a Cronid."

Where did all that spontaneous and impertinent arrogance come from? He had never been like that, not so evidently at least. Persephone found him comical, so comical that her stomach almost hurt with laughter. And he laughed back, pleased to have caused her good humor.

Persephone tried to attack him again, intending to tickle him. This time, however, she was forced to stop: she saw his shapes under the water's surface. She couldn’t help noticing his erection, which there wasn’t just before, she was sure.

Well, she couldn't see it very well, but... maybe the _tall man rule_ couldn’t apply to him, no.

She drew back at once, pursed her lips and forced herself to look at his face again. She knew her expression was extremely guilty for that peek and the thought immediately following. And, in fact, Hades noticed, smiling now shameless. As if he wanted to repay her courtesy (or rudeness), he too lingered over her shapes with his white irises. He hadn't done it all evening, never once he had lowered his eyes, not even for a second. But now Persephone was feeling his gaze like a physical touch, as he admired the curve of her hips, her prosperous breasts with swollen nipples.

"I’m mortified" he repeated for the umpteenth time, although with that smirk he didn’t seem at all, "wanting a fertility Goddess isn’t a choice. But, as I said, I can wait."

Then he straightened up and approached her a little. He became serious again and Persephone wondered why. The atmosphere had now changed, as if he were about to ask a crucial question. As he put his hand on her shoulder and caressed her neck with his fingertips, she felt like she was overloaded with a moral weight.

"Please, stay with me tonight" he pleaded with genuine voice, suffering, so strange in the mouth of a King, "don’t feel obliged to do anything. Just, sleep here. Please."

It was rare to hear the Gods ask favors so genuinely. Persephone was undecided, curling a brown lock around her fingers. She stared at him, looked at him, and found no more lust, only a kind of distant anguish. More than the offer of a King in need of passion, it seemed the request of a simple man frightened by solitude.

Persephone bowed her head a little, going towards the fingers that touched her between the slimy locks. She sighed.

"I can stay, Hades, but first I want to know something from you."

He narrowed his eyes, tame as a domestic cat. He nodded only once, to tell her to express her doubt.

"You know how to wait, that’s true, but you’re also greedy and ambitious. You said you want everything" she explained, seriously, "well, I'd like to know where you think I am in this _everything._ What am I? One of those things to get in order to win some sort of game against Zeus, or..."

But he stopped her, now shocked. He did it physically: he put his fingers on her lips and prevented her from continuing. Now he was looking at her incredulously, seriously, austere.

"Have I ever given you any reason to think this?"

The truth was that she didn't know what to think. She had always felt at ease with Hades, but that last revelation about how ambitious he was had awaken her apprehension, it was useless to deny it. And that apprehension was going to reconnect perfectly with all of Demeter's lectures, of all the times she had warned Persephone about the greed of the Kings.

She swallowed, tried to be honest.

"Actually, I always feel like you have already thought of everything. It’s like you have a plan of your own and my choices really don’t matter."

He shook his head patiently.

"Everything depends on your choice, Kore. If you hadn’t spoken to me at the conference, I would’ve never exposed myself first. It's the truth."

At that point, he leaned over her, being careful not to get too close. He sighed, lowered his head to get smaller: a gesture that Persephone always appreciated, because it conveyed the idea of how much he was aware of being intimidating, and how much he was also willing not to appear so.

He now was smiling, while he continued to caress her with his hand, behind her neck.

"I'd be lying if I told you I didn't see you in my plan, Divine. I’m like that, I plan everything. I can't consider a woman if I'm not _sure_ there could be a long-term commitment. But I never considered you an object to add to the whole. I never thought of your virginity as something to be taken, like a diamond or a soul. When I think of you and try to place you in my conquest plan, I see you clearly, and certainly not as something to possess."

"Then how do you see me?"

He smiled obliquely, honest.

"As the perfect accomplice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I didn't remember this chapter being so long.  
> Actually, the word "long" is not really appropriate in this particular occasion...
> 
> BUT ANYWAY! xD If someone has read my fanfiction "Power is pink", as you can see here I recycled a little part of the dialogue and the situation from chapter 2, even if the mood is quite different. This is one of the few parts I re-used, because I liked it too much. I just wanted to point that out, a little fun fact!
> 
> Bye bye, see you next week! *.*


	18. Fate is a Wheel

Destiny has an indecipherable way of pushing people and events to behave according to what has been established. Not even the Gods are exempt from the will of Fate; and it’s true, they can scrutinize it through the precise looms of the Moirai, but nevertheless they cannot fully understand its Mysteries, born before the beginning of the world. Fate, therefore, also moved for Persephone and for all the characters involved in Alxios’ case, which would’ve soon brought a deep change in the Underworld.

There was no doubt: if nothing had happened to move the situation, Persephone would’ve let it go. She would’ve no longer thought about that child and his father, taking it for granted that nothing could be done for them anymore, that Hades' decision was, after all, fair like that. But the Wheel of Fortune spins eternally, spins for everyone. And soon, very soon, it would’ve turned in favor of the Spring. Soon, just a few minutes, an alarm would’ve sounded, and the Wheel would’ve turned. Shortly thereafter.

For now, however, Persephone was oblivious, lying in the dark silk sheets of Hades' bed. She slipped as she stretched, still naked since the night before. Even though from the windowless terrace overlooking the Elysium there was always a pleasantly warm air coming in, Persephone felt a slight shiver go up her body, and she had to pull the sheet over her shoulders.

Nothing had happened. Hades hadn’t even dared to sleep in his own bed: Persephone had fallen asleep alone and had woken up alone, aware that he would’ve never done anything to physically approach her, if she hadn’t been the first to give him any incentive. Even now, in fact, he was sitting cross-legged on a chair, at his desk: his little corner of work, which he had everywhere, even in the bedroom.

Persephone watched him from afar, relaxed. The God was already in trousers and a shirt, perhaps he had always been since he had left the bath, the night before. Silent, he looked thoughtful as he stared at the computer screen, holding his chin. Far away, on the terrace, the dogs were calm and all three were sleeping blissfully.

Persephone blinked to wake up completely.

"Good morning!" She greeted, happy but still sleepy.

Immediately, Hades awakened from his thoughts. Turning with the whole chair, he pointed toward her with a pale smile.

"Good morning, Divine. Did you sleep well?"

Persephone nodded, stretching a little more and turning sideways on the mattress. Even so, she couldn’t remotely touch the edge, neither with her feet nor her arms.

"Yes, very well, thank you. You’ve got a nice bed here, I guess I could even get used to it."

As expected, he seized the opportunity:

"As far as I'm concerned, that bed is already yours, Kore. Every night you shall not sleep there, it will be for me a miserable night."

Oh, well, he was good with declarations. Sometimes he was so genuinely exaggerated that Persephone doubted he really realized what he had said. Or, maybe, he was just like that: like all the major Gods, he was used to view everything in reference to the great design of the universe, with its long timelines. A declaration of eternal love, for him, wasn’t so serious, because he himself was eternal. To tell the truth, he behaved as if the relationship didn’t even need to take off: he took it for granted that it was their destiny, and it couldn’t have been otherwise. For Persephone it was both flattering and a little pressing.

She tried to change the subject.

"And you, instead? You haven’t slept at all, have you?"

"No."

"You could’ve, only a few hours. It's Sunday, take some rest."

But he bent over and leaned with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. He smiled sympathetically, with a sharp mouth and low eyes.

"I don't usually sleep, it's not my habit."

"You have a bed."

"I have a bed for other reasons."

Persephone laughed. Her eyes narrowed, she directed to him a mischievous smile.

"My King, _that’s disgusting_."

"The sheets are clean."

"Yes, but I could be jealous."

She was joking, of course. Persephone wasn’t a jealous person, and in any case she would never have allowed herself to be so after a short time in a relationship. Hades, on the other hand, considered a feeling like jealousy so illogical and frivolous that he didn't even consider the idea.

This said, however, Persephone was still curious. Then, wrinkling her nose even more mischievously, she rolled in the sheets, playful.

"My King, are you hiding me something? Do you have a girlfriend?"

"I have no _girlfriends_ , I'm not a mortal teenager."

"Concubines?"

"I've had some."

"But?"

He was embarrassed, now. It was evident from the way he looked away and pursed his lips, or the way he stiffened his neck a little. All small, almost imperceptible bodily reactions, invisible for those who didn't know where to look. Persephone was proud to have learned them.

The young Goddess frowned and sat on the bed cross-legged, curious and worried at the same time. Had she introduced a thorny subject? Curious. Curious for one of the three kings, at least.

"What's up? Did I say something wrong?"

He shook his head, still aiming at the ground, his black curls hanging in front of his forehead. In that contrite position he didn't look like a Cronid, on the contrary he looked a lot like Alexios, with his fringe too long and the shy attitude. He must have been like that, as a child.

"Lately" he admitted, pretending to be cold as usual, but with a slightly cracked voice, "lately, my appetite has faded."

Persephone's eyes widened.

"Oh."

She couldn’t find anything smarter to say, because inside she was wondering what exactly that confession meant. Did Hades have any physical problems? Well, she wouldn't have said so, considering his _size_ the night before, during the bath.

And, in fact, the Inexorable specified:

"I didn’t mean physically. But you need to understand that I have reached an age in which _everything_ has become boring. I no longer want to waste time with concubines. There is no carnal pleasure they can give me if, when I look at them, I know there isn’t the only one I’m looking for."

Persephone nodded sympathetically. Well, of course, it didn't have to be easy. He must have had many women in his long life. But if for him the emotional factor was important, then accepting to be with anyone, even for just one night, maybe it wasn’t so satisfying on a thousand-year scale. The Goddess could almost imagine his sight, so peculiar, which before a beautiful woman could see only her flaws. It had to be frustrating.

And so was explained, suddenly, why Hades was the only unmarried King. This explained why he hadn’t immediately proposed to one of his sisters as Zeus, why he hadn’t surrounded himself with courtesans. His eternal search for perfection had been the first cause of his loneliness.

Persephone sighed, realizing that again it was time to cheer him up.

Alone, melancholy and shy God of the Underworld. If only mortals could see what she was seeing now...

She got up from the bed naked, she didn't care. She was already used to it, as if it were _natural_ , almost _right_ , around him _._ She felt no embarrassment, on the contrary, she felt free. As in that painting by Titian, Sacred Love represented through nudity.

She walked quietly until she reached his chair. She stopped in front of him and lowered herself to meet his gaze still on the dark floor. To help him, she stroked his smooth, dry, angular cheek, and made him straighten.

"Well, if you like me enough to make me fit into your big plans, maybe you don't need to look for anymore."

Was it presumptuous? Yes, maybe. But Hades was the first one to like exaggerated declarations, she might as well repay him with the same coin. And, in fact, he liked it: he broadened a sincere smile, his dark eyes narrowed in a pleased expression.

"You're right, Divine" he sighed, then another confession, "thank you for staying. I really needed company."

Oh, Persephone knew it. She had already guessed it the first time she had seen him, in the university hall, while mortals weren’t even approaching him; she had guessed it when she had seen him arrive alone at the charity dinner, then stay on his own all evening. With the difference, however, that he had denied his own unhappiness back then.

Persephone didn’t further test him, knowing that so many confessions by Hades in just two days were a unique event in the history of the universe. Then she motioned for him to sit up straight in the chair and, without asking for permission, she sat on his legs. She felt the fabric of his pants under the thighs and she placed delicately a hand on his chest, to reassure him.

And there, that was the moment.

The moment when the Wheel started spinning again.

The moment when an alarm sounded, loud, powerful, that echoed in all the rooms of the palace and, perhaps, in all the Underworld. A dark, rhythmic alarm that sounded like danger.

Everything happened very quickly: Hades straightened too fast and Persephone almost fell, having to cling to his neck; the three dogs, all together, sprinted into the room, growling; finally, they approached and _reunited._

Persephone was stunned, suddenly frightened, because it was obvious that something was wrong. She stood up to leave Hades free to intervene. Meanwhile, Cerberus, now the only three-headed mastiff, was running up the stairs and growling, heading somewhere.

Hades rushed to the nearest intercom. He pressed a button and spoke:

"Explain."

It was the only thing he said, he didn't even have to specify who he was addressing in the building, or what he wanted to know. A voice from the other side answered immediately.

"An intruder, your Majesty."

Hades didn't get upset. Even in the most disastrous situations, he remained neutral, indeed, even more so. Because he had the attitude of the leader and he didn’t want to generate nervousness in the subjects.

He turned to Persephone peaceful and categorical, so, while she instead was agitated and with her arms clasped to her chest, to cover her breasts.

"Kore, dress up."

He had said it in a tone so authoritative as to be soothing. Was it possible? He always seemed to have no doubts about how to behave, and from a certain point of view it was comforting. Persephone wanted to be so sure of something in her life.

She hurried to get dressed, wondering if it was normal to close the first week of work with such a blow: she had thought that the Underworld was monotonous, and instead there was no day without something memorable happening.

The alarm was turned off short thereafter, so as not to cause the whole court a nervous breakdown. But now the Wheel had received its push: that alarm had already marked many destinies, even that of the afterlife itself.

And this was one of the few things that not even the Inexorable could know.

When they arrived in the throne room, they still found it almost completely empty. This, however, conveyed no less sense of agitation: the few who arrived, in fact, were running frightened, gathering with evident agitation. Moreover, the people gathering were not the usual court goers: no souls, no interns, no judges. They were more for the most part inhabitants of the court: domestic nymphs, bodyguards in dark suits. And finally, the two of them, Hades and Persephone, in modern clothes, she with her hair still loose and chaotic.

As soon as they were inside, the Goddess, indecisive on what to do, positioned herself in the usual place, and let Hades go ahead on his own. He saw him, stoic, resolute, passing by a dark nymph who had brought the bident for him and was handing it to him with gloved hands. He grabbed the symbol of his power without even slowing down, at a constant pace, then climbing the steps of the podium and sitting down on the granite throne with austerity.

That day he seemed different. Perhaps it was the unusual situation, perhaps his being on the throne in non-traditional clothes, indeed, even almost _messy_ , at least in the hairstyle. In his neutrality, which was usually _more neutral_ , he seemed in a bad mood. As if not having given him time to dress properly was a serious lack of respect on the part of the mysterious intruder: hadn't they taught them that it was rude to commit burglary early in the morning?

Hades only took a second to straighten up on the throne and settle the tie he had casually worn on the way. Then he sighed and, without saying a word, he turned to one of his security personnel, asking for explanations with a single glance.

"An intruder, your Majesty. A living."

"Tell me something I don’t know."

The guardian, a humanoid yet infernal being, with grayish skin and hairless head, hurried to add details:

"We found him on the outer bank of the Styx, on deck eight, my King. He was trying to tamper with the control unit to open the gate and pass along with the souls. We don't know anything else."

Hades uttered a deep moan, with tight lips, and Persephone could almost hear his thoughts as he complained about technology and regretted Charon’s ferry.

He said nothing, however: he regained his inexorable attitude and made a lazy gesture with his hand to bring in the criminal.

Now, speaking of the criminal, Persephone didn’t know what to expect. A ninja in dark unitard probably, with only his murderous eyes uncovered. And, instead, whatever her absurd and stereotypical mental image, as soon as the burglar entered the room, she had to retract it.

The _criminal_ didn't look like that at all.

He was just a young man, in his twenties. He was dressed in the simplest and most ordinary way ever seen for a person of his age: a short-sleeved t-shirt and jeans, without any kind of decoration. A veil of unkempt beard framed his emaciated cheeks, medium-length hair was gathered in a man bun.

He was so normal! The typical guy who goes unnoticed, who can be seen in a bar, at the university, on the subway. He didn't look like a burglar at all, he looked like a thousand others.

He was handcuffed, he looked tiny when he was forced to kneel. He stayed still and said nothing, he didn't even dare raise his head. He was so out of place, with his skin still _alive_ and his colors too saturated, that he almost hurt Persephone's eyes, as if she was no longer used to the surface and its creatures.

Everything remained still, as eternally embedded in the ice, an eternal moment of history. Hades stared at the young man so glacially that the whole room darkened. The unusual defendant, on the other hand, did nothing, perhaps aware that he couldn’t yet be judged by the Inexorable.

In the end, the God spoke. He did it in an absurdly amused, sarcastic tone, much less serious than one might have expected.

"Mortal, _such an honor_. Forgive me if my hospitality lacks enthusiasm."

The young man swallowed and said nothing. He closed his eyes, his head still bent.

Since he wasn’t talking, Hades resumed, with a sarcasm so sharp as to slice the atmosphere itself.

"Don't fool yourself, you’re not the first one trying. I have to deal with people who claim to come prematurely in my realm at least once every millennium. This time you happened in the early years of this era, very well. Let's get you out of the way now, and hopefully I’ll be free for a bunch of centuries until 3000."

The man swallowed again and, without opening his eyes, finally he had the courage to utter a word. It was little more than a murmur, indeed.

"My... Lord... there was no other way..."

But Hades, as usual, showed no sign of the slightest pity, least of all with someone who had dared to disrespect him.

He pressed him without mercy.

"What did you want to do? Bathing in the Styx to become invulnerable? Kill my dog? Your precursors have already tried these feats and, believe me, none of them ended well."

Persephone couldn’t help but notice that Hades was more hostile than usual. Well, it was normal: somehow, deep down, even if he never showed it, he had to be _angry_ , or at least annoyed. But he had a passive way of demonstrating it, introverted. He never indulged in verbal vulgarity or physical aggression, not even slightly: his maximum was only a sharp sarcasm. Persephone admired him very much for this ability to regulate emotions and free them only at his will: a power she didn’t have at all.

The man, more and more contrite, resumed.

"No, no, sir, I didn't want to do anything bad. I just wanted... to see you."

At that point, even if only for a moment, astonishment was clear in the eyes of the God. Hades wasn’t used to having fans, especially not living mortal trying to meet him in advance.

He frowned and furrowed the hump of his aquiline nose, narrowing his eyes. He took refuge again in sarcasm.

"If you were so eager to see me, there were simpler ways. You could’ve put a gun in your mouth, they say it’s quick and painless."

At that point, so suddenly and unexpectedly, the human dared: he raised his head and his eyelids.

He challenged the look of the Inexorable.

_And he was still alive._

He suffered, trembled, but didn’t get intimidated like all the other living being. Perhaps because he was already desperate, and he no longer had reason to fear death.

This must have been an unusual gesture for Hades. Because he himself, although he never admitted it, was fascinated. Persephone saw, in his vaguely frowning expression, curiosity for that specific mortal who, over billions, had managed to overcome terror. He must have convinced himself that the young man was somehow special. Well, of course he had to be, if he had managed to come there with the breath of life still in his body.

"My King" the man resumed, terrified but convinced, "I know I dared too much, but it was the only way. I can't... I can't live without her."

" _Her_ , who?"

" _Eurydice_. She's... she was my girlfriend."

Hades seemed lost for a moment, as if he needed to have a quick think. He must have seen so many souls and heard so many names in his life, that now he considered all mortals indistinguishable clones. But it was only a moment, because he immediately nodded gravely.

"Eurydice, the shadow which arrived the day before yesterday."

"I can't live without her" the young man repeated, desperate, shivering and shedding tears, so common in that place of pain but never so warm, "she was... she was coming at my place, and instead... she ended up under that van, and... there was nothing left of her... because that man, _Pirithous_... he was chasing her, she was just trying to save herself, and... she didn’t deserve to die."

But Hades didn’t like whining or drama, difficult for him to interpret and as such irritating. So, he didn’t even grant a minimum of grace: he raised the palm of his hand, signaled him to stop, not to utter chaotic words.

"I'm not the one choosing who should die, when or how. The Wheel spins for everyone, mortal. Get over it or get yourself killed, I can't give any other advice."

But the young man, bold and equally desperate, insisted.

"I don't care about my life: take it if you need it in return! I just want to give her a chance."

Hades took his eyes off him, already disinterested. He began to look towards the other side of the room and Persephone knew it was a bad sign: he would soon have quit the hearing without batting an eye.

"I don't need to trade your soul, mortal. It’s not that worth, and it will come to me anyway, in a handful of years."

"I know... I know I don't have much to offer, but..."

But Hades was completely disinterested. He rose from the throne, dry and cold. He expressed his last sentence on the subject:

"Even winning death is an undertaking they have already tried, you’re late. The last one was Sisyphus, and now he is in Tartarus, pushing up a stone for eternity. Be grateful that you’re not up to the same fate, return to the surface. We'll deal with your soul when you come down the second time, and I hope you'll be dead by then."

He turned. He was about to leave, the security staff was already on the move to take the man away. And there Persephone had to bite her lips, trying to restrain herself.

The instinct to speak was strong, as strong was the one to keep quiet. She was undergoing an inner battle: she was saying to herself that no, she could not intervene in such a case, she had no right because it was an emergency situation; but, on the other hand, she couldn’t help but feel that there was _something wrong_ with that case. It was carrying too many debates and too many problems. There had to be something they hadn’t understood, including herself. And then, how to behave? Should she shut up, as she was tempted to do for fear of the Inexorable, or speak and be a pain in the ass?

Well, she thought she actually was a pain in the ass, so she might as well go along with her nature.

"Er... my King..."

What came out was just a murmur, yet it was enough for Hades to stop suddenly, still only a stone's throw from the throne, putting the bident on the ground and shaking the courtroom.

"Divine" he hissed, this time not at all surprised, "you were too silent, indeed."

Persephone broadened her smile, trying to mask her embarrassment. She shrugged, guilty.

"My King, you said you need a different point of view."

"Alas, I said it."

"Well, this is one of those situations in which I firmly believe you need a different point of view."

What wouldn't people do for love? A mortal had just shown that he was capable of descending into the Underworld for his Eurydice. Hades maybe didn’t show his feelings so broadly, but on that occasion he did something equally valuable and equally challenging for someone like him: he stepped back, he sat down again. In silence, he agreed to give a second chance to a human who was testing his patience.

"Divine Persephone, I accept your advice, but you will come here to express it."

That, however, wasn’t expected. Persephone swallowed, embarrassed and now even agitated: she didn't want to get on the podium, that wasn't her place, she didn't feel she deserved it.

"Uh, I don't think..."

"I won't be the one to steal your show talking about empathy. Your field, your advice, your administration."

Persephone petrified. She looked around and noticed that everyone, now, had their eyes fixed on her, even the young human. She felt pressured to the bones, but she took courage.

Cautious, she went up the stairs. At each step she was a little higher and felt a little more out of place. When she arrived at Hades, she herself found it hard to look up. And yet, when she made it, she didn't see an amused or sarcastic expression on his face, as she would’ve expected. She saw him serious and somehow _encouraging_ , and she knew he had invited her up there on purpose. He wanted her to get used to him, so she could overcome her fear even at the hearings. He had said only the night before that the idea of frightening her made him unhappy, and it seemed that, as a decisive God, he had decided to solve the problem, and solve it now. Because he was patient, yes, he was willing to give her time, but certainly he wasn’t an apathetic God who allowed things to flow around him without managing them.

The young Goddess remained standing with her hands clasped together beside the throne, while Hades kept staring at her without moving a muscle.

"Please, Divine, go on. What were you saying?"

Persephone tried to keep her mind focused and straighten up a little, mostly to make a good impression in front of the others. She knew she couldn’t rely on the feelings of the Inexorable and therefore she didn't even try.

"My King, actually, I don't have enough experience to decide on a case like this. But I feel like this problem of Eurydice, Alexios and everyone else involved is... knocking too hard on our door, if you know what I mean. And since you talked about the Wheel... perhaps it would be wise to consider the case in depth. We don’t want to insult Fate."

"We couldn’t even if we wanted to, Divine."

A dry reaction, always serious, but which was accompanied by a sincere smile. As if, after all, those mediations really stimulated him, and he was somehow proud of her.

The Inexorable sighed. He turned his chin, calm and almost bored. He looked back at the young man and, when he opened his mouth again, he gave the idea for the first time since Persephone had known him that he didn't know what to do at all. He wasn’t used to ask more questions than he thought necessary.

"Well, mortal, you heard your defense. Tell me... what you want to tell me."

"Thank you, your Majesty. Thank you, Divine. My name is Orpheus. I mean, it's my stage name. I’m a computer scientist and a composer. As a hobby, not for work. And, I don't know... since you don't care about my soul, if I can serve you in any way, I’ll do it, to allow Eurydice to come back up with me."

Hades’ silence was so glacial that it was clear how much he considered the request vapid. He cast an eloquent glance at Persephone, without commenting out loud, but by now she knew him enough to feel how disgusted he was.

"Well, Hades, he almost tampered with your security system, I suppose impeccable. You won't deny that he seems clever." She tried to intercede.

"He seems irresponsible."

"And skilled, or he wouldn’t have arrived even beyond the first barrier in the gallery. We could test him and see what he can offer at least, am I right? He could be useful."

But there was no way for which Hades could consider an _undead_ useful, and it was obvious from all his infinitesimal bodily reactions. Everything about him, albeit imperceptibly, was annoyed.

"What could he ever do useful for this court, Divine?"

Persephone didn’t give up, turned to the young man.

"Hey, Orpheus, play something for us. Show the Lord of Erebus what you can do."

"I... I really can't play."

"You said you’re a composer."

"Yes, with the computer. Synthetic music, but... I swear it sounds like a real orchestra."

Persephone couldn’t deny it, she felt all hopes vanish. Hades didn’t have to be a big fan of human music already, but then even _synthetic_? If the King could’ve had a syncope, that would’ve been the right moment.

"Well... let’s hear it." She ordered to Orpheus, disheartened, already sure of having lost game, set, match, all together.

But no. Orpheus, somehow, found a way to amaze everyone. With his ordinary appearance, after having extracted an ordinary mobile phone from his pocket, he reproduced an _extraordinary_ track _._

It was instrumental music. In a modern context, perhaps, it was suited as the soundtrack of a movie. Persephone had expected some sort of disco music, a DJ set, but no, it was something acoustic, with serious and rhythmic moods that blended well with the refined power of the palace, and with the Inexorable himself. It was something that, in short, could hope to break into the ancient soul of Hades. Something that could even _please him._

In fact, he liked it. The astonishment on the King's face was evident, he too was struck by the extraordinary in the ordinary: he frowned again and changed expression. He was no longer disgusted.

When the track ended, silence reigned in the courtroom and, maybe, in the whole Underworld, from the Elysium to Tartarus. No one moved, not even Persephone, fearful that her speech would break the magic, ruining everything Orpheus had just achieved.

In the end, it was the young man the one speaking:

"So, was it... to your liking?"

Persephone nodded, convinced. Hades, as usual, took more time to express himself and didn’t give a direct answer. Precise, of course, but never just yes or no.

"I’m a God who always says the truth, mortal. I would be lying if I said that your music wasn’t objectively very beautiful. Indeed, Apollo and the Muses would all appear here with indignation, and the last thing I want is to encourage other visits."

He paused. Hades was looking at Orpheus now, like someone thinking of a plan. An attitude that Persephone didn’t like at all, but which, to her great surprise, led to a very positive verdict.

Almost _too_ positive.

"I’m going to offer you a deal, mortal. Since you have proven your virtue, bravery and kindness, you can return to the surface, and Eurydice will come with you."

Astonishment, of course, was unanimous: the domestic nymphs, were wide-eyed and began to whisper each other in the big pointed ears; the security officers looked around confused; and finally, Persephone cast a disbelieving glance at the God, beside her, struggling to hold her jaw tight.

"Oh, my Lord, thank you! Thank you, thank you!"

But Hades raised a hand, blocking him.

"I haven’t finished" he resumed, sternly, "Eurydice can come with you, _on one condition_ : you must never turn to check on her, until you are both on the surface. She will follow you, but you will have to trust my word. If you turn around, if you doubt even for a second of my promise, then you won’t deserve my clemency, and Eurydice will forever stay in the Underworld."

"No! I’d never doubt, really! Thank you, my Lord!"

"To doubt is human nature. But I wish you to succeed."

Hades kept his word, and everyone was amazed and happy for that privilege, so out of the norm for him. Even Persephone was shocked, she didn't even know whether to say in a negative or in a positive way, because it seemed to her that everything had been absurd. For a long time, as she saw Orpheus go out, and the shadow of Eurydice follow him, she had believed she was in a dream.

But it wasn’t a dream, it was reality, and reality is terrible, much more inexorable than the Inexorable himself. And then Eurydice came back, not even half an hour later. Crying, she said that Orpheus had turned, but that she was still grateful for his love. She returned to Dis. She made a vow to wait for him in silence, until he died too.

At first, Persephone was disappointed. She almost thought that Hades had done it on purpose to boast of his foresight. But no, she never saw contentment in his eyes when she asked him for explanations. She saw no fun, no authority, no pride.

What she saw instead was a _lesson._

A lesson on Fate, on its Wheel that spins unstoppable: it cannot be persuaded to change its course. Achilles had understood it, immersed in the Styx except for the heel, and died _fatally_ with a single arrow in that single vulnerable spot. Heracles had understood it, enlightened by divine strength, and ending up exterminating his own family through that gift. And that day, it was Eurydice's turn: beatified with the opportunity to return to the world of the living, on a simple condition, and Orpheus violating that one small request. Maybe incidentally, maybe because he really didn't trust Hades. Whatever the reason, however, the moral was the same: if Fate has designated that the thread of a soul is cut off at a certain point of time, there is nothing that can be done to change its decision. The Wheel had decided that Eurydice should die, so dead she would remain. Hades had given an apparently stupid condition, of simple realization, on purpose to show that really _nothing_ depended on his mercy. He could’ve even avoided restrictions for Eurydice’s resurrection, but Fate would’ve in any case brought her back, in one way or another.

And so, that was the precise moment when Persephone’s sense of uselessness, already vivid even before knowing Hades, touched the bottom. She became even more aware of how actually her choices were limited, indeed, they were an illusion: not only her own, but also those of the powerful Cronids. She knew then that her desire to change things in the Underworld, or in the mortal world, was nothing more than an unattainable ideal.

But there was one thing that she didn't know yet: it wasn't the Underworld only that had to change. Persephone herself had to change, and Hades with her.

And the Wheel had already triggered its plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Lately I have a lot of spare time: as you might know, here in Italy coronavirus is striking hard, and our government has organized a sort of quarantine for the whole territory and especially in my region. So... well, we're forced at home. And as much as I want to be a good citizen, it's boring. Time to translate the whole book in two weeks, I suppose. 
> 
> Now, before you leave, just two little notes!  
> 1\. I really love history of art, so sometimes I like to put some references of it in the story. This time, the painting I was referring to is [Sacred and profane Love](https://www.analisidellopera.it/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/Tiziano_Amor_Sacro_e_Amor_profano.jpg), by Tiziano (brace yourself, Giuls' documentary is coming...). It's from the Reinessance, a period in which classical studies and phylosphies were re-emerging after the middle ages. That's why the idea of "sacred nudity" reappeared. In fact, in this particular painting, Sacred Love is represented by the naked woman (some experts say she's Venus), as it was for all the sculptures from ancient Greece and Rome. On the other hand, Profane Love is represented by the woman with clothes, wich are a sort of frivolous display of wealth: quite the contrary compared to our society. So, I wanted to represent Perephone as more "pure" and "confident" while she is naked, because she's not "filtered", and it will be the same with Hades, progressing with the story.  
> 2\. In this chapter there's probably the biggest poetic license of the whole story. I had to put together the charachters of Pirithous and Aristaeus, for the economy of the plot. In the myth, in fact, Aristaeus was the one chasing Eurydice, but I chose to cut his name, and have just one charachter instead of two. Sorry, it was necessary. (Imagine me snapping my fingers with the Infinity Gauntlet and eliminating half of the problem, lol).
> 
> Bye bye, see you next time! *.*


	19. Nine days and nine nights

Time was a rarefied concept in Erebus. Perhaps it was also due to all the innumerable innovations that were overlapping, but Persephone felt like everything was flowing slower, like she was immersed in icing. Above all, that feeling had become even more pressing after the events of Orpheus and Eurydice, and the awareness that they had brought about Fate.

For this reason, the first month of internship seemed infinite. From the second week onwards, Clotho, tutor of the interns, had brought them back to the open-space office where they had been the first time to learn about the Telematic Loom. She assigned everyone a desk and Persephone ended up near Orphne. From that moment on, the days were divided into two time blocks: the morning, in which the interns still participated in the hearings, and the afternoon, in which they began to manage the simplest cases and to take their own final decisions.

The very first cases were a shock.

The defendants entered, sat in front of the desk and immediately spitted out all their faults. All the first cases of Persephone were obvious: exaggerated innocents or exaggerated culprits, so it would’ve seemed elementary to decide for them between Tartarus, Elysium or Dis. In case of doubt, there was even a handbook available, which the interns could consult to quantify the years of penalty.

It would’ve seemed easy, yes. Elementary. Yet it wasn’t at all.

It wasn’t easy for Persephone to listen to the souls and not to see in each of them both merits and flaws, however extreme they were. It wasn’t easy either to ignore the doubt in front of the humblest souls, or to silence her empathy in front of the most perverse ones. It wasn’t easy, not even once, to insert the sentence in the TELX2 system, click on the send button and know that every decision would’ve been final. But above all, it wasn’t easy to forget the case of Eurydice, Alexios and his father, now that Orpheus had stimulated her interest again.

Persephone was surprised to think of them very often, in her spare time, in bed before falling asleep, or sometimes even during work, when she had another soul in front of her and she would’ve had to concentrate on what she was doing.

There were many questions that afflicted her about that case, but all could be summed up in a simple hypothesis: _if Eurydice hadn’t been chased by an attacker, wouldn’t all three of them be alive?_

If. What an ambiguous word. A single syllable that changed the whole point of view on Fate, life, the universe and everything. A word that Persephone often cuddled, loving it and hating it equally, and that Hades, instead, never considered. The young Goddess hadn’t yet told him of her speculations, but she could already hear his certain answer: _if Eurydice hadn’t been chased, nothing would’ve happened. But it wasn't so and we have to accept it._

Hades was like that. He preferred not to think of the past, because he feared it. He preferred to barricade himself in his present, with its hard decisions, maybe the future consequences in the vast universal plan. But no, what had passed, for him had lost importance: therefore he never came back on a case, he preferred not to even return on his own memories, and certainly he didn’t waste time to cuddle interesting but impossible hypothesis in his mind.

But Persephone was different: if something interested her _by instinct_ , she could no longer get rid of it until she untangled the knot. It had been so for the case of Alexios, but in other words also for Hades himself, who had found _by instinct_ interesting from the first moment. She liked him precisely because he had to be deciphered, so complex behind his simplicity.

She liked this. It stimulated her. At least as much as she _didn’t_ like the fact that he was so closed-minded to new possibilities. In fact, Persephone knew that if she had told him about Alexios’ case, he wouldn’t have left her the slightest hope to re-analyze it. Well, not until he had a good reason.

But for a good reason, evidences were needed, so she would’ve given him. Persephone was aware of relying too much on her own instinct, on the one hand she even understood why Hades was trying to limit that part of her, so it was time to become more precise and professional: she had to investigate.

Persephone would’ve investigated the case of Alexios. She decided on it one evening in late November, lying down staring at the dark ceiling of her apartment. She decided it would’ve been her personal project. She had the Telematic Loom, the knowledge of all history and of all the Destinies, and no one could prevent her from doing it. She would’ve given a logical sense to that _instinctive_ feeling she had felt from the beginning, she would’ve translated her innate suspicions into a series of tests and clues that could be read and understood by the mind of Hades.

She would’ve started the next day. It was clear that it would’ve taken some time, because the rest of the work commitments overburdened her, she couldn’t ignore them. But she would’ve slowly investigated and reconstructed the matter. And she could’ve finally been really _useful_ in something.

Alexios’ case would’ve taken time, and for now it was only in the pre-takeoff phase. But in the meantime, Persephone's cases, her personal afternoon judgments, were a more pressing issue, along with her fear of assigning penalties. And yes, Persephone was very emotional, but she also liked to find practical solutions; which was why she was convinced that her reluctance was certainly due to the fact that she didn't know, to the actual, what the real consequences were. She knew Dis now, a place of neutral souls, she lived there; she had seen the Elysian Fields of righteous souls and every weekend she came back there with Hades, to make the dogs run free and to release her power in plants and wildflowers; but she had never seen Tartarus, a place of punishment for the guilty, and it was certainly for that reason that she struggled so much to send souls to it, even when in front of her she had a serial killer not regretting his own actions. How could she consciously decide, if she herself didn't know what she was decreeing?

That is why she thought of asking Hades to see it. Persephone could wait to talk to him about Alexios, but the Tartarus issue was necessary and more urgent, and she neither wanted nor could hide her doubts about it.

The right occasion came just a month after the the beginning of the internship. It was a normal day, like so many others, always assuming that in Erebus it was possible to talk about _normal days_. The morning hearings had just passed, all fairly straightforward, with no surprises and even quite positive sentences. If there was a day when Hades could bear an unusual request, it was just that.

Persephone had planned to ask him in the evening, if she had seen him, or maybe write it to him by e-mail. By now, in fact, their relationship remained that at for the most part during the weekend. But that day Hades, taking her by surprise, had gone down to the basement floor, that of the offices, and had come to share her lunch break. She, who had not planned to see him, was already at her desk and was eating canned noodles with Orphne.

When Hades entered, in those places designed for a worker and not for Cronid, he had to bend under the lintel of the entrance. Seeing him almost fill the large environment, the interns remained silent. They murmured a timid, formal greeting, and immediately disappeared, including Orphne. Neither Persephone nor Hades were offended by it: it was common for the surroundings to become depopulated when he arrived.

He walked with a brighter smile than usual towards the desk. When he reached it, he bent over and placed both palms on the table, peering at Persephone with his face tilted to the side and his eyes shining dark.

"Good morning, Divine. Quiet day today."

Persephone greeted him waving the lunch sticks. Now they were facing each other: he, with his impeccable suit as usual, enormous and powerful; her, with the ethnic dress too colorful for the Underworld, the flowers in her chaotic hair, her mouth full of noodles. From the outside they looked like the most mismatched couple ever.

"My King!" Persephone exploded, happy, once she had swallowed, "What are you doing in the slums?"

Hades spread a sarcastic grin and pulled back his raven hair, a gesture that always made him look like a mix between Fonzie and a middle-aged banker.

"I came to _inspect_ the positions of the interns" he looked down at her desk, exaggerated a disgusted expression, "finding them however in a terrible state."

Persephone herself looked down at the desk and found it pleasantly untidy. It was big, she shared it with Orphne. But the part of the nymph was all in all acceptable, instead hers was devoid of any order and logic: there were files in three different piles, confused; there were post-it notes everywhere and in all colors, each with the most disparate indications, from the various passwords to the shopping list; There were pens, markers, highlighters, pencils, erasers, all things scattered because she didn’t even had an organizer in which put them.

Persephone raised her eyes again, guilty, with a smile.

"My King, I can explain."

But Hades was uncompromising with everyone and everything. Without giving her time to justify herself, with only two fingers, he raised a small disposable cup of coffee that had been there for at least three days. He stared at her, holding the cup up and accusing her with scorn.

"Do you know that all geniuses are messy? Even Einstein."

"Einstein was human, wasn't he?"

Persephone then shrugged her shoulders, placed the noodles on the table (the carton would’ve remained there all week). She knew she could try to soften him only with seduction.

She got up to sit on the desk with just one thigh. She raised her skirt a little, threw her head back in an exaggerated pin-up gesture. She winked and failed, because both eyelids closed.

"My King. How could you scold an intern looking like _this_?"

Her tone was so exaggerated in its seductive nature that ended up just sounding comical. Hades smiled. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand, as he always did when he thought he showed too much _humanity_ , and then put the cup back on the table.

"Keep your desk tidy."

He tried to sound authoritative. He didn't make it.

"Okay, boss, okay" Persephone agreed, without testing him further, "but say hello to me properly, now."

This time, instead, he was happy to give in to that request: he walked around the desk, joined her. He left a cold kiss on her neck, just below the earlobe. A spot that Persephone liked as much as him, because it always gave her tiny waves of chills and goose bumps along the collarbone.

He did nothing else, of course. Although her bare thigh was within reach, he didn't even try to touch it with a finger. Gentleman, sure, but sometimes _too much_ : Persephone would’ve given anything in the world to see him throw everything down the desk and take her immediately, but on the contrary he seemed to have built a bubble around her body that had made her untouchable. After the episode on the banks of the Lethe, when she had confessed to be a virgin, Hades had become even less inclined to a physical approach. Persephone knew he did it for her, so as not to hurry her, and deep inside she thanked him, but sometimes she even doubted that he actually wanted her sexually. And Demeter had so much feared his seduction, that’s really saying... of all the Gods that Persephone had met, Hades seemed the only one not willing to impale any breathing creature.

The young Goddess knew that this would’ve been another problem to deal with and she mentally took a note. But that wasn’t the place, so she sat down normally on the desk and stayed beside him in a chaste way, happy just to have him at lunch.

And there, without a specific reason, it came out. It was just the right time, perhaps.

"Er, Hades... can I ask you a favor?"

The Cronid looked at her curiously, perhaps hoping for some favor of an economic nature, because he certainly had no problem granting those. His thin lips curved in a smile.

"Whatever you want, Kore."

"Well, actually, I don't even know if it's a request I can make, but... I 'd like to know if it was possible to see Tartarus."

The request must have sounded at least bizarre to him. No one went to Tartarus, not even himself. The place, which Persephone couldn’t even imagine in her mind, didn’t require guardians and was left to itself.

Hades didn't say anything at first. He looked at the wall and sighed, expanding his broad chest. Persephone saw him swallow. He looked uncomfortable.

"Why this news?"

She decided to be honest. She smoothed her hair a little nervously, while the flowers of the crown closed in small buds.

"I know Dis and I know the Elysian Fields, but I have no idea what Tartarus is. I can't send souls there, if I don't know what expects them."

Another sigh. Hades closed his eyes and shook his head a little, skeptical.

"It's a place of punishment, Kore. It’s not pleasant to enter even for a visit. I'd rather avoid it, I don't want you to get upset. It might be even more difficult for you to assign souls after you’ve seen it."

But Persephone had the distinct feeling that she was more upset now that she didn't know it, because the unknown is often responsible for most of the fears. She tried to insist, without being pressing, because she didn't want to sound stubborn or imprudent.

"Hades, I know how to be severe with the souls who deserve it. And I'm not so easily scared. I know it sounds hypocritical, I had some reactions seeing you at the hearings, but... that wasn't me. I'm usually adventurous."

"I know. But Tartarus is very similar to me, in its power."

Persephone didn’t understand, but to tell the truth she couldn’t, even striving, until she felt it on her skin. Then she slid along the desk a little more, until she touched Hades’ body. She stretched an arm around his waist, barely reaching to cling to the opposite side. Just after she had done the first move, Hades did the same, hugging her shoulders.

"I’ve learned to bear your eyes, I’ll learn to bear Tartarus as well."

"You’ve had a good feeling about Erebus until now. I don’t want to spoil it."

"Sure. But I think that actually it’s not about me and Erebus, it’s just that you don’t want to spoil your image of me being all puppy dogs and rainbows."

That somehow had to hit him very deeply, perhaps even in his own pride, because Persephone heard him stiffen in her embrace. Another sigh, this time more nervous. But Persephone didn’t give him time to be proud:

"If I have to accept this kingdom, Hades, I must accept it all, for better or for worse. Test me, I won't let you down."

And those, on the other hand, had to be the right words, because his massive body came back to relax under the precious fabric of the suit. Persephone felt his grip tightening around her shoulders and suddenly he did something spontaneous and affectionate, so rare for him: he bent down and kissed her head, pausing a moment to inhale the scent of flowers, now in bloom for the enthusiasm and warmth of his impulsive gesture.

"I already know you won't let me down, Kore" he whispered to her, his lips still in her hair, "we're going tonight, dress warm."

Tartarus was far away, that was the only thing Persephone knew for sure. Hades had begun digging the rest of Erebus not in its proximity, so as not to risk even vaguely having to hear the thunderous curses of Cronus, his father.

Hades then came to pick her up that evening. Ascalaphus was driving when the car arrived, Hades was in the back seat. He went down to open the door to Persephone, because he would’ve loved those little gestures forever, and when they were both inside it was clear how unenthusiastic he was about the journey.

He was rigid, in fact, and silent. He said almost nothing. For more than an hour he just scrutinized out of the window, or in the direction of the Goddess, with questioning expression. He was still wondering if it was a good idea, it was obvious.

At one point, she had to calm him down:

"Hades, don't worry. We’ll come back immediately if it's too much. Ok?"

"Um."

He didn't want to talk, okay. Every now and then he needed those moments of extreme silence, sometimes he even needed to be left completely alone and Persephone respected it.

Yet, even when he seemed so cold and unfriendly, he was always there. Even on that occasion, in fact, he touched her hand for a moment, resting on the black leather seat. He ran her knuckles with his light fingertips, causing her to shudder.

He drew back, no longer touched her so as not to get her cold. Then Persephone saw him absently turning on the heating from the small panel he had on the door, and she had to smile.

Hades was always there, really. Even when he seemed somewhere else.

Not for nothing they called him _the Unseen_.

When they arrived and got out of the car, Persephone realized that it was even colder than she would’ve expected. Colder than Dis. In that submerged kingdom, where there were no seasons and changes, the Elysian Fields were summer and Dis was autumn, but Tartarus was certainly the coldest winter that Persephone had ever felt on her own skin. And she was Spring, different and not completely at ease in any of the three levels of Erebus.

She shrugged and closed the coat up to her chin, her breath standing out clearly on the black rock background. Hades, on the other hand, was dressed as usual and didn’t seem to be affected by the climate at all. That day, in a black shirt, he almost disappeared, fading in the environment.

The God ordered Ascalaphus to wait for them and to keep the car on, so as not to cool the cabin. Immediately afterwards, the valet gave Hades the bident, handing it respectfully and with his gloved hands. For a moment, Persephone wondered why he had brought it, while she was lost looking at it. It had a soft layer of frost on the metallic rod.

"Do you want to hold it?"

Persephone emerged from her thoughts and realized that Hades was analyzing her with innocent curiosity. He was even handing the bident to her. One of the most ancient symbols of power, equal only to the trident of Poseidon and the lightning of Zeus.

"Oh, no, no, I’m not…"

"You can, Divine."

Persephone succumbed to curiosity.

No one touched the bident, in fact, except the King. Valets and maids always handed it to him wearing gloves, and Persephone had ended up thinking that it was out of respect.

She wasn’t entirely wrong. It was _also_ a matter of respect. But mostly it was practical: she realized, in fact, even just brushing it with the tip of a finger, that the bident was freezing. It wasn’t just cold: it was the kind of frost that could’ve welded with human flesh, even burning it. It could’ve destroyed the hand of a mortal.

Persephone immediately withdrew her fingers, with a start of surprise.

"It's very cold."

"That’s how it should be. If anyone could keep it, anyone could be in my place."

It made sense. Because yes, Hades could handle it, but it wasn't pleasant for him either. Those were the symbols of his power: a scepter that burned his hand every day and a granite throne that always kept him uncomfortable and alert. The longer Persephone spent there, the more she became aware of what a torture was to reign over Erebus, mentally and physically. She was starting to understand what Hades meant when he repeated that being God isn’t a privilege. That was just a limited, very human idea. An idea that lingered on the palace and didn’t see the dark corners of its King’s loneliness: and idea that enjoyed the sight of diamonds without realizing that the one who produced them couldn’t use them.

Persephone swallowed, pursed her lips.

"Why did you bring it? Will we need it?"

Hades didn't get upset, he answered flat as usual. But Persephone felt as if he were worried inside.

"The older souls tend to forget where they are. The bident is a symbol, it reminds them who decided their fate. Don't get close to them. Walk in the middle of the hallway."

Persephone nodded frantically. Meanwhile, Hades started to move and pushed her a little in the middle of her shoulders, to show her to start walking.

"You make me go first, my King? Coward." She joked, nervous.

"You’re too slow, you wouldn’t keep up."

When he was in a bad mood, he was even less inclined than usual to soften the brutal truth. But he had to realize that he was too harsh, because he added, more affectionate:

"I just don't want to lose you, little girl."

Persephone wondered if she liked that nickname or if it was too ambiguous. And in the end she decided that yes, she liked it all right. Then she promised to stay with him, she wouldn’t have let him go a single inch away. And to show him how literal she was, she stuck to his side. Her sudden clinging like a mollusk had to amuse him, because he finally let go of a slight smirk.

At first, they entered a narrow and dark corridor, sometimes with slippery steps going down. Everything was dark, damp, lit by flickering electric lights. There seemed to be no sound down there: only the ticking of the droplets falling from the ceiling on the stairway; but the deeper they walked, the more even that noise dispersed, because the humidity on the walls froze.

Everything was getting cold, dark, pressing, and the lethal silence of the God of the Underworld didn't help. The more Persephone went down, the more the sense of oppression increased. Not only from the physical point of view, but also and above all psychological.

Each step was a step farther from the light. Literally.

It was like losing the sense of space and time. Several times Persephone had almost fainted, for no apparent reason, and Hades had always been ready to hold her up.

After a few minutes, the sense of exhaustion was no longer just vague, but began to turn into discomfort. A sort of anxiety, weighing on the chest and on the wrists, which was digging slowly but steadily as the drops dug the stone. She felt chill in the brain, fear at the bottom of the heart.

Then, as soon as the feeling of terror had grown enough to recognize it, the first cells appeared.

They were all the same, bare, small enough to oblige the prisoners locked in there to stay eternally kneeled. They occupied both sides of the corridor and Persephone remembered to stay in the center, squeezing her shoulders as if the prisoners could grab her if her jacket was protruding even just an inch.

However, the prisoners were doing nothing. Most of them were completely expressionless, not even aware of the visitors: they were naked, thin, frozen and staring into space. The most reactive among them merely looked away while the Inexorable passed by: they raised their arms in surrender or laid their palms on the ground, the ancient way to be respectful to the God of the Underworld.

"They don’t get punished?" Persephone whispered, just a breath, for fear of breaking those icy souls.

Hades didn’t use the same care and spoke in a loud voice, as he did in the court, while the prisoners closed their ears and cried tears of despair.

"Tartarus is a prison, not a torture chamber. I have no interest in physical punishment."

"I thought there were retaliations. Like, you killed someone, you get killed eternally, or something like that."

Hades sighed, patient, as he kept her in motion and prevented her from stopping or collapsing.

"Being here is more than enough as retaliation. Tartarus has a peculiar feature, Divine: _it makes the souls face the worst part of themselves._ The prisoners here can only think about their faults and their worst memories. When they have repented and forgive themselves, they will go to Dis. But it’s a long process, and for this reason we assign many years with our sentences."

So, the souls punished themselves. Even the most wicked had to come to repent, and those who had come to repent had to be willing to self-absolve. There were no judges there, no jailers. Perhaps, even without bars, the souls couldn’t even escape, because the grip of guilt is more powerful than any chain.

That also explained why Persephone was feeling so bad. Empathy wasn’t a good power to have, among so many mortals in pain. She felt overwhelmed by their condemnation, by their faults, by their regret, just as she had felt overwhelmed by certainty when she first had seen Hades’ eyes.

But she could do it, she knew, and then she forced herself not to fail. She had promised it. She knew she needed that visit. If she clung to reason, in fact, she could understand that Tartarus was basically better than she had expected. It was terrible, of course. But fair. Hades didn’t like to lock souls there and certainly erroneous were the rumors about him having fun in his spare time inflicting the most painful tortures. No, nothing could be more wrong: the sense of superiority that Hades felt towards mortals was such that he wouldn’t have cared even about their screams, he wasn’t interested in violence.

Because not, Hades in general didn’t enjoy suffering. Indeed, he tried to avoid it. That was why he had a room near the Elysian Fields, and why he was in a bad mood about coming into Tartarus. And that also explained why, during the hearings, he usually tried so hard to block any feeling: after all, he wasn’t free of a human part, and he was well aware.

Persephone swallowed, tried not to think about the father of Alexios, who was there somewhere, stuck on the thought of his son dying. She didn't even dare to ask about him, but anyway, a question escaped her, shy, contrite, with a whisper:

"Hades, have you ever... got a judgment wrong?"

There was a break, but not a physical one, because the Inexorable kept pushing her, forcing her to walk. If he sensed something of her suspicions about Alexios’ case, he didn't show it.

"Yes." He replied, truthful, unable to lie because of his own pride.

"And what do you do in that case?"

Another moment of silence, heavier than the first, which didn’t portend a tender response. And, in fact, his divine pride came like a bat on an anvil:

" _A God never retracts_."

Persephone let herself be guided again and they went down, until it seemed to her that she could never emerge again. Finally, just when she was wondering how far the center of the earth was, the corridor disappeared.

The path opened up.

They were now on a balcony, overlooking on an immense chasm. An inverted cone that descended into the bowels of the earth and became increasingly darker. Impossible to see the bottom. No mortal unit of measure could’ve quantified its depth, perhaps not even its circumference. And, in the walls, so many holes, so many small cells, like a hive of sinners, more and more dangerous as they were near the bottom.

Persephone stopped, clung to the metal balustrade, held her breath with wide eyes. She realized that the flowers on her head were frozen, it would’ve taken days to make them bloom again.

Hades finally stopped and didn’t force her to descend any further, even though the stairway continued, spiraling and diving into the abyss. He seemed to have reached the place he was interested in and he too rested his hand on the railing. Now he was staring at her, as stern and steady as the rock surrounding him.

"If we let an anvil drop, it would take it nine days and nine nights to reach the bottom. And in the bottom, there is _him_."

“Cronus?” She asked, trembling, sure that the answer would’ve been affirmative.

In fact, Hades nodded gravely.

"My father, your grandfather. Zeus threw him down there, the impact dug the abyss. I made sure that he stayed were he had fallen" a tense pause, then another Mystery revealed "the anxiety you feel is him."

Kore frowned. She believed it was empathy for the souls, to tell the truth maybe it was _also_ that. But there in addition the power of Cronus, then? Was that what made her almost faint? Cronus, even that far away?

"You mean, he makes this sense of... of..."

"Yes. It afflicts humans and Gods, it’s his power expanding. He can change the perception of time. This is why the souls are stuck on past faults."

"So, Tartarus exists because Cronus exists. Tartarus _is_ Cronus."

"At least he’s useful."

He said it with such disinterested disdain that Persephone felt herself pierced from side to side. Hades really had to hate his father very much.

"And that's why you said that Tartarus is similar to you. Am I right?"

Because it was, in fact, very similar. Persephone had instinctively compared the overwhelming feeling of certainty that Hades conveyed with that of regret that she was feeling in Tartarus; but it made more sense, knowing that they were powers of the same nature.

"I’m the first son" he explained, unable to hide the hatred he felt, "I had the honor of inheriting part of his power, including a _bad aura_ towards those around me. Needless to say, I would’ve lived better without it."

Persephone swallowed, tried not to insist too much on the subject. She stayed silent and leaned over the railing, curious and terrified at the same time. As soon as she did, one of Hades' big hands was on her shoulder, apprehensive, ready to hold her.

"And what's he doing down there?"

"He’s chained. He complains, screams blasphemies. He also shakes often, stay back."

And, just as he said those words, a dark roar spread in the air. It seemed the distant wail of the earth's core itself, a muffled cry in the bowels of the ground that made the rock tremble.

Persephone moved back from the balustrade and leaned against the wall, breathing hard. For the first time since she had known him, she saw that Hades wasn’t doing better: he was looking down, now, terrified. With his left hand, he was touching his chest, running over the scars.

"Time to go, Kore. This is no place for you."

It was no place for either of them, actually: Hades' terror for his father was more vibrant than ever. So, Persephone took him by the hand and distracted him from the chasm.

"Let's go home, Aidoneus."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
> This is one of the chapters I like the most, because it wasn't planned and it "just came out" while writing (cit. Persephone xD). Actually, it was a bad idea to write a book about the Underworld and then NOT showing Tartarus, so here it is. Also, with this sudden idea, I managed to go even deeper in the meaning of Hades' power. To be honest, here too there are so many poetic licences. Everything about Tartarus is basically my reinterpretation. Also, the hole left by Cronus falling is a reference to Dante's Inferno and Lucifer's fall.  
> Thank you for reading and for your wonderful comments, as usual! Have a great weekend! *.*


	20. The devourer of dreams

The journey to return home was easier. At each step, the soul lightened a little, slowly tearing itself from the grip of Cronus' power.

Persephone wasn’t the only one to feel relieved escaping from the Titan: Hades was less and less rigid. While traveling by car he was still not so comfortable to talk, but his increasing tranquility was evident even without physical signals. Or, at least, it was for an empath.

Empathy, however, was an important power, and it could make Persephone aware of the whole spectrum of people. So, it was true that the Cronid was calm now, but also a subtle melancholy was making its way in him, enveloping his soul in a gray veil. Impossible to see it from the outside, also because the Inexorable was still good at not faking neutrality, but Persephone knew it was there.

She knew that it was for a mixture of motivations: the main one was the same Cronus, whom Hades certainly hated, but who also recognized as a father, and therefore it must not be easy for him to keep him chained in the abyss; and then, of course, there had to be a sense of guilt for that inherited power, the one of emanating terror.

Persephone didn’t say anything, but decided to act: as the car sped by silently on the banks of the Styx, she unfastened her seatbelt. Immediately Hades, the Immensely Protective, started to worry, staring insistently and questioning.

Persephone didn’t explain. She flirted in the central seat, to be closer to him. She fastened the seatbelt again, sighed and finally leaned against his shoulder. A normal, genuine gesture, of which he was grateful even though he was evidently not used to it. A gesture that, silent, made clear a message: _it’s not true that you have a bad aura._

Hades understood, because he could always understand silence. And so he remained motionless, but with a sort of significant immobility, which was shouting: _thank you._

Persephone had to fall asleep at some point of the journey. After an unquantifiable time, in fact, she felt cold, and his fingers touching her temple.

"Wake up, Kore. We’re almost there."

Persephone recovered and opened her eyes. She realized that she was no longer in the same position: she had slid off, falling with her head on Hades' leg, with all the walnut-colored curls ruffled on his lap.

She wiped her eyes, yawning, and sat up. She turned and looked at the sculpted features of Hades' face, illuminated by the soft cold lights of the city out of the window.

"You could’ve kept me awake, I wanted to keep you company."

"You were so relaxed."

There was a note of envy in that observation, as if he admired her after all for being so quiet after a visit to Tartarus. Maybe, that human pleasure that was sleep intrigued him even. Which made her realize how much he would’ve needed company that night.

"Hey, do you want me to come to the palace? I know that tomorrow is a work day, but if you want..."

"You shouldn't even ask, Divine. I’ve always considered you my guest, you are the one running away."

He smiled and, as if fearing she might think again, he ordered Ascalaphus to go directly to the palace.

When they arrived, Persephone was all aching. Some servants immediately came to welcome them and take the orders of the King. He instructed them to prepare the bath and something to eat, because he knew that Persephone hadn’t dined and, as with sleep, she was affected by the lack of food like a mortal. Then, just as they walked towards the private quarters, Hades began to look at her with too much apprehension. Persephone stared back at him, and his doubtful aquiline nose made him look even more severe than normal.

"I have a doubt." He finally expressed himself, laconically, and it didn’t seem he wanted to explain what he was referring to.

"Rare for you, what is it like?" She joked.

"Exhausting."

And again, it seemed he got stuck. Persephone rolled her eyes and snorted. She had to encourage him.

"Are you going to express this doubt?"

Hades really seemed to think about it for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed, as if for him the conversation made sense even if he announced having doubt and then he dismissed it all.

"I was thinking that I’d hate it if you…" he finally stated, rigorously, "if you need to leave the palace and go to your apartment because you feel… _coerced_."

Persephone widened her eyes: it was very rare to hear him speak hypothetically, and about emotions, too. The effort he was making was almost palpable, she wouldn’t have been surprised to see him sweat.

"I don't understand. I don't feel coerced."

"I mean, if you lived here, I wouldn't force you to stay in my room just because you came there sometimes. If at any time you needed your space, I would respect it. Even now. Just say it and I'll have the Queen's rooms prepared for you."

Persephone, if possible, widened her eyes even more. She laughed nervously, embarrassed, blushing from head to toe and becoming the same color of her peplum of the hearings. She raised her hands and denied vehemently.

"Hades, what the hell? No, this isn’t the reason, I’m happy to stay with you! I don't need the Queen’s Rooms!"

"Once it was like this" he explained, scientifically, not at all involved in that embarrassed hilarity, "married couples used to have separated quarters as well. So, even if you were my wife, I’d respect it."

Persephone felt like burning inside her bones. She looked a bit around and felt relieved to find no one hearing their words. She couldn’t find anything to reply.

"Someday I’ll understand why you’re so ashamed of the word _wife_." He said, now with a slight sense of irony.

"Hades, you... you say you’re patient, but sometimes you really run too fast..."

But he was as calm, as linear as he always was. He continued to walk with a neutral attitude, as if the speech didn’t concern him. He took everything for granted.

"I'm not running. I’m just telling you what I know."

"We’ve known each other only for two months."

But again came one of his sentence which, however poetic, had no space for doubts of any kind:

" _Life and Death have known each other for much longer_."

They dropped the conversation, because after those statements Persephone never knew what to say. She made clear, however, that she had never felt uncomfortable in Hades' private room and, as long as it didn’t bother him, she was willing to stay there when she slept at the palace. Obviously, it didn’t bother him.

Therefore, they went directly to his quarters and Persephone noticed with astonishment that there was already food on a small table near the bed. The warmth penetrating from the balcony was a panacea, after Tartarus cold, and Persephone was happy to finally be able to take off her sweater. Looking at herself in the mirror, she also checked the flowers on the hair, small buds of unidentifiable species. They were still frozen, and did not seem inclined to recover. She touched them, as if she could revive them, but they gave no signs of life.

Hades joined her from behind, Persephone saw him appear in the huge mirror. He had made himself comfortable, he had just the shirt on. The suspenders highlighted his shoulder: Persephone found them sexy, even in their vintage way.

He pursed his lips, disappointed. He touched the dead buds and looked serious and regretful.

"I'm sorry."

"Don’t worry, they’ll grow back. In a few days I bet they’ll be primroses."

Persephone left the mirror and turned, finding herself in front of him. She grabbed the suspenders playfully and used them to pull herself up and kiss him. She couldn't reach him, he still had to lower himself a little, and the young Goddess wasn't sure she would ever get used to his size. That was the reason why she never invited him to her apartment: he couldn’t fit in her bed, even by cutting his legs.

"Are you tired?" He asked so calm and soft as to be barely perceptible.

"Yes, it’s been a long day, I’ll go to sleep. What do you do?"

"I’ll work."

"Rest with me."

"I better not."

Persephone pursed her lips and thought that no, she didn’t particularly loved that part of him. She sighed, trying to stay calm.

"Erebus won’t collapse overnight, if its King thinks a little about himself."

"Sleeping is useless" he ruled, "lay down, you won't even notice my absence. You’ll fall asleep in a second, judging by your eyes."

And that was an attempt to be ironic, yes, but it also suggested that the conversation for him had ended.

Persephone didn’t despair. Maybe she was just an insistent minor Goddess, a little girl still unaware of her Mysteries, but she knew that even for the Cronids it was good to rest. Her mother was a Cronid, after all, and she had lived with her for more than twenty years; she must have learned something.

So she didn't insist on words, because she knew they were useless. Instead, without giving him time to adapt to her new strategy, she began to undress quickly in front of him. In a very chaste way, as she would’ve done in her house just to go to sleep: she quickly took off her shirt, leggings, shoes, and then also her underwear, because she had no intention of sleeping with the underwire of her bra stabbing her lungs.

Once she was naked, she straightened up, stood in front of him like a pawn on the board. She blinked a couple of times and threw herself on the bed, without waiting for him.

"Well, my King, I don't have time beg you all night" she teased, slipping over the dark satin sheets, "of course leaving me here all alone in this ocean of a bed isn’t very polite. I should make you a very negative review on Trip Advisor. And you know what? We were talking about traditions. I thought that back in your days hospitality was sacred. I never expected such treatment from you."

As she laid down, she glanced quickly between her breasts: she saw him still standing, his hands in his pockets. He was still, yet it was clear how much he wanted to move. A smirk drew his hairless and sharp face, while his hair fell before his forehead and gave him a grim look.

He said nothing at first. He approached, slow, and was at the foot of the bed in only two strides, although the room was immense. He arrived, took his hands out of his pockets and leaned with both arms wide open on the dark wooden pillars of the canopy. His jaw was clenching rhythmically in a spasm that gave no doubt about how much lust was bubbling in him.

" _Back in my days_ " he replied, "if I had wanted you here, I would’ve just brought you here. Back in my days, you, Goddess of flowering, should’ve agreed to stay in my palace every night and on that bed you should’ve _returned_ the hospitality."

Persephone wasn’t intimidated, in fact, she was proud, a technique she had learned from him and which both enjoyed.

"Don't blame me! I’m very _open_ , instead _you_ chose to not even touch me. It’s almost like you don't want me, my King."

He clenched his jaw again and a thunderbolt of lust crossed his clear irises. He inhaled powerfully, like a predator that sniffs a victim, but his actions never matched his impulses: all he did was tear off one hand from the column of the bed and stretch it toward her, caressing her ankle. Persephone, even with just that touch, felt his cold pervade her body, together with the warmth of the gesture.

"I want you as I never wanted anything else, Divine Persephone, not even power" and he was serious, in his carnality, "but even a little while ago you complained about my haste, so you’ll understand my reluctance."

Always so formal, even when he spoke of love.

"I meant that you run too much in words sometimes, not in actions." And now she had stopped playing too.

Hades shook his head a little, sighing annoyed. He pulled his other arm from the pillar and finally gave a proof of what he said: he bent down, leaning on the mattress at her feet, and started to crawl up. He reached her, their faces were close. He, fully clothed, and Persephone naked and panting of excitement, vibrating in the lower abdomen.

While holding himself up on an elbow so as not to hurt her, with the fingers of his free hand he began to trace paths along her body, starting from the lips, descending to the chin and neck, lingering on the collarbone and the sternum. He never changed direction, never looked at her breasts, just to convey how controlled he could be, unlike most of the other Gods.

"My actions" he murmured profoundly, "are a consequence of your reactions to my words. I _cannot_ do more, because you see, little girl, _back in my days_ , taking your virginity would’ve been _definitive_ regarding our union. And you're still very confused about what you want to be for me and this court."

Persephone wasn’t sure she had understood his reasoning, also because at the moment her mind was clouded by the work of lateral seduction Hades was building on her body.

"It doesn't... it doesn't work like that anymore, Hades…"

"Outside, maybe. In my court it still works like that."

"We can also... have fun... without necessarily taking it as a ceremony. Virginity now is worthless."

But those were the wrong words, because his almost imperceptible touch became a little heavier as it crossed her breastbone up and down, leaving a line of chill that penetrated her heart and lungs.

"It’s worth for me, Persephone" he was categorical on that point, "I won’t spill your ichor just for _fun_ , have no doubt about this."

Persephone closed her eyes and realized that on that point Hades was exactly like Demeter, and like all the other Gods, for the record. In fact, there was a reason why the loss of virginity was still considered so crucial among them: because it spilled ichor, the blood of the Gods. And since the Gods do not normally bleed, pouring even a drop is always very, very serious: it can be a terrible lack of respect if done to hurt, a _hybris_ , or it can be a ceremonial form, as in the case of a pact of blood or lying with a man.

But Persephone didn't see it that way, it was too old-fashioned for her. For a moment, she almost wished she had lost her virginity with someone else before, so not to have problems now with Hades.

"But I want to be with you, I’m ready, I can’t see the problem."

It came out more miserable than she would’ve liked, but actually it had an unexpected effect: it stole Hades a minimum of compassion, something that had never happened since Persephone knew him. He spoke sweeter:

"I just don’t want you to regret it later. I want _everything_ of you, not just your body, and I need to be sure you want _everything_ too."

When he finished speaking, he leaned and kissed her, opening his lips a little, cooling her mouth and throat like a sip of iced water. In the meantime, Persephone thought Hades was wrong: she was much more conscious of what he believed. And no, she wouldn't have regretted it. She was an adult now, it was time and she also knew that he was the right person. Perhaps she wasn’t ready to call herself a wife, in fact the two of them seemed to have opposing ideas on what was the priority process to follow in the relationship. But for everything else, yes, she wanted to be with him and she was sure, physically and mentally. She would’ve made it clear. And, since patience was a game that could be played together, Persephone decided to give in, at least for that evening. She nodded and didn't insist.

The fact that she had yielded, at least on the outside, had to steal Hades compassion again, because he finally smiled. He straightened up, leaving her free, and began to unbutton his shirt.

"And now let's try this _sleeping_ you like so much. Fine?"

Persephone smiled, still a little melancholy, but glad at least to have obtained that pyrrhic victory.

"It was my plan all along."

Hades laughed, admiring the answer.

Finally, when he was in underwear and looked like a marble statue, he slipped into the bed with her. Persephone cuddled up close to him, with conflicting feelings in his regards: sorry for his terror of Cronus, frustrated by his excessive mechanicalness in physical relations, grateful for his gallantry in everything else.

Persephone fell asleep all in all quiet, because as usual the sense of firm peace that Hades transmitted was a cure-all, even when they had conflicting opinions about something. She closed her eyes in his arms, then, and immediately Hypnos took her consciousness.

However, the sense of tranquility wasn’t destined to last. Having him by her side was nice, but for some reason that at first she couldn’t explain, Persephone awoke twice, nervous. On both occasions she had always found Hades sleeping, motionless, undecipherable even in his sleep, and then she had gone back to sleep, with an anxiety she couldn’t explain.

Finally, late at night, she was forced to awaken for the third time.

Persephone felt her companion move uneasily. She was just in time to open her eyes, that Hades sat up, suddenly. It was as if he hadn't slept at all.

Persephone got scared by his unexpected movement and, sensing that something was wrong, she sat up too. She joined him, tried to study him, and saw something she had never expected: Hades was _terrified._

He was stiff, his eyes wide, his nostrils dilated. Rigid as a rocky sediment, he didn't speak, he didn't even blink.

"Hades?" She called, frightened, "Hades, what's wrong? Is it all right?"

"It was a bad idea."

He said it apparently calm, but Persephone knew he wasn’t. And, in fact, it didn't take long for him to start shaking his head. Persephone tried to calm him, but he resisted and turned, sitting on the edge of the bed. Finally, he rested his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands.

"Hey, calm down. It was just a bad dream."

Persephone had never seen him like that before. Fear was a feeling that he certainly felt but which, like all the others, masterfully concealed. Along with anger, panic was one of those negative emotions that he feared, and therefore kept confined in a corner, somewhere at the bottom of his soul. When those emotions finally emerged, it was always a wave of so much negativity, accumulated over the centuries. And that's why now he wasn't _just_ afraid of a bad dream, he was afraid of _everything._

At that moment Persephone understood also why she hadn’t been able to sleep: sometimes empathy gave her the feelings of those close to her even in sleep. She had no idea what Hades had dreamed of, but it must have been something very stressful for him, perhaps caused by the visit to Tartarus.

Well, if he had dreamed of Cronus, Persephone wasn’t going to investigate. It was an off-limits topic, also because it didn't matter to know exactly the object of his nightmare to try to comfort him. Then, quiet, she said nothing and simply reached over to the edge of the bed, curling up beside him and transmitting her only presence to him.

It was enough. It was always enough, with Hades. Kicking off his demons was as simple as staying silent. In fact, after a few moments, he emerged from his hands and gave her an oblique look. He was still panting a little.

"Better?"

He didn’t answer, neither with actions nor words. He inhaled, instead, lowered the two depths he had for eyes. Then he did something Persephone hadn’t expected: he reached out a hand to her and placed it on her thigh.

It was an unusual gesture for him. Even when he had tried to tease her a little, he had never trespassed as much as to touch her directly. Above all, it was a really strange gesture there, that very night, a few hours after his fervent speech on the importance of keeping their distance. To tell the truth, he himself seemed astonished at his own gesture: he frowned and couldn’t take his eyes off the hand left on her thigh.

Persephone wondered if by chance he had changed his mind about what he had said just before, and above all she wondered why everything had happened so quickly. But she dared not speak, fearing he could stop, or worse, decide to leave her there and go to work, an activity that he considered the solution to everything.

Left alone, Hades began to breathe heavier and with a more sustained rhythm. Persephone swallowed, felt the grip on her thigh steady. His hand finally moved, leaning a few inches higher, more inward. The unmistakable direction towards which his pale, thin fingers were moving gave her an excitement grip at the base of her stomach. Her body tried to compensate for it with a slight moan, which she hoped he hadn’t heard.

But no detail could escape the God of the dead, great observer, who immediately looked up at her. A brief exchange of glances and there were no more barriers: empathy flowed equal to certainty and at that point stopping was impossible for both.

They approached, found each other, kissed eagerly, Persephone stretching on her knees to reach him better. For the first time she experienced a kiss that had nothing controlled, nothing scientific, nothing planned. The first real _warm_ kiss she received from the Inexorable.

Persephone felt the flowers in her hair blossoming into roses, regardless of the previous state of frost, and she blossomed with them. She felt bitten by a passion she had always known she had inside, as Goddess of fertility, but which she had never experienced, not so bursting. And she liked it.

She became more voracious. For the first time, her enthusiasm didn’t provoke estrangement in him, but rather involvement. Skin to skin, it was clear to both of them that come off at that point would’ve been impossible.

Hades turned, went on top of her and she forced her to lie down. But not with the intent of blocking her or dominating her, on the contrary: they were playing both the same game, and for the first time it seemed to Persephone that there was a _balance._ She felt _really desired_ , not just in words.

Now that she could feel him, no clothes, every single muscle and every single tendon touching her, she was suddenly aware that there was just his underwear separating thei genitals, and her instinct made her tie her legs to his waist. She felt his hardness press and it made her moan, begging him to fill her.

But Hades didn't. He had changed his mind, perhaps, but he hadn’t forget all his principles. In fact, he didn't resist the temptation to simulate a couple of thrusts that filled Persephone with expectation, but he stopped there.

The Goddess felt unfulfilled and was about to complain about it, because unlike the Inexorable, her emotions came out often and always powerful. But she didn't have time to protest, because Hades satisfied her in another way: he slid downwards, tracing languid kisses along her body, on her neck, nipples, on her full belly. Finally, he made his way between her legs, separating them with his own body. He dug his fingers into her thighs, into her buttocks, and he held her tight as if he expected she could escape at any moment.

When he leaned against her core and breathed in her scent, Persephone gasped, unable to contain her arousal. Especially since everything was happening so quickly and so by surprise... everything could be said of the King of the Underworld, but not that he was predictable.

Feeling his mouth directly on her folds was a sudden and glowing pleasure for Persephone. Never would she have expected Death's kisses to be so fiery. A few hours before his touch had made her chill, now it subjected her to a sweet diametrically opposite torture.

He never said a word, never gave explanations about that sudden desire. Because Hades was a meticulous man in everything he did, and certainly he was so even in bed. He didn't dare to stop, to slow down, not even to _breathe_ , because he didn't need it. He continued in his work, with a sort of violent sweetness, and soon Persephone realized that for her there was no escape.

She felt her legs tremble, the pleasure become more intense and at a pace that no longer allowed her to keep track of what was happening. Then she threw her head back and prayed that he wouldn't stop, because she was feeling like she could break up in little pieces.

The Goddess couldn’t communicate how close she was in words, but she certainly made it obvious when she grabbed his curls, pulling him with an aggressive ardor that she didn’t know she could feel. It seemed to her that he was grinning against her center, amused by that greed.

When Persephone finally welcomed her climax, it was one of the most powerful she had ever experienced, either alone or with others. It was overwhelming, from a physical point of view and a mental one. While she trembled and screamed under him, in fact, she felt that what they were doing had fulfilled a need of them both, and not just hers.

Her pleasure finally faded, faster than what she would’ve liked. Then she leaned heavily on the mattress, relaxing the muscles. She gasped and realized she still had her fingers in his hair, when Hades rested his cheek against her belly.

The God sighed, Persephone with him, and everything went still. Hades remained for an infinite time leaning over her, eyes closed, relaxed but focused, as if he wanted to hear the sound of fertility in a woman's womb.

Persephone stroked his head and, now that she was more lucid, she felt that it would’ve been a good to reciprocate. But she didn't even have time to say it, in fact, not even to move to do it, that Hades emitted a slight sound of denial, as if he already knew of her intentions. A relaxed sound which meant: _not tonight, little girl, don't be hasty._ Then the Goddess sensed that perhaps he just wanted to rest, and left him there, on her abdomen, again half-asleep, at peace.

Only then he finally spoke. Just one breath, a docile confession blown in on her navel, the center of everything.

"I’ve dreamed of Cronus. He had devoured you."

Persephone took pity on him and felt guilty for asking him to sleep on the very day of his visit to Tartarus. Then she tried to comfort him cuddling his ear, tracing its profile and squeezing the earlobe. She finally understood why he had so much needed her.

Then, unexpected, a new confession. The definitive one.

"Every day I pray not to appear to you as Cronus appeared to me."

So that was the second real reason why it was so difficult for him to have a physical contact. It wasn’t just a matter of etiquette, or ancient traditions. Hades, the mighty Cronid, was afraid of looking as immense and frightening as his father. That's why he never touched her, why he didn't lie down on her, he didn't even hug her if she wasn't the first to bring his hand around her shoulders.

"My King, I swear it" she reassured him, with a sweet smile, "you never seemed to me as much in my reach as tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that mature rating makes sense, doesn't it? 😂


	21. A King on his knees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TODAY'S GLOSSARY  
> Himation: the mantle/drape worn over the chiton, on one shoulder, as a cloak.

In the following days, working in the hearings with the Lord of the Underworld became a little distracting. Not only for Persephone: even though he hid it better, he wasn’t his usual self at that time. He stayed on the throne less rigid, he squeezed the bident with less decision, he even seemed to smile behind a first layer of neutral gaze.

Persephone knew he was falling hard for her. It had always been so, perhaps, since they had met, but after their first intimate experience he had proved much more emotionally involved than Persephone believed.

Seeing him so happy, however, made her feel a little guilty about her investigation plan on Alexios’ case. Not that she was doing anything wrong, all right, but still she didn't like having secrets. On the one hand, she was afraid that Hades would’ve told her to give up, but on the other hand she was also sure he wouldn’t have completely blocked her. So, she decided to introduce the topic. At least to let him know about her project, and maybe also have some help. Because, just as he said he needed Persephone's opinions, so she was more and more aware that she needed Hades'. Their minds were so different, to become complementary: when one couldn’t understand something, there was the other one. It was useless to hide the head in the sand: the opinion of Hades, though contrary, could help her find the right path.

So yes, she had done some investigation, but before she could go further and begin to scrutinize the Telematic Loom, she wanted to have the honest opinion of the King. And she asked it on a Friday night, favorite time of the week for him, because it had become customary for Persephone to stay and sleep. He was always much more peaceful during the weekend and the Goddess was as well, so if there was a moment to talk in which both had a good attitude it was certainly that.

As soon as the shift ended, in fact, Persephone said goodbye to her colleagues, turned off the computer and rushed to the court. For the occasion, she had kept the peplum on, even though she didn't usually work in traditional clothes during the afternoon office shift.

When she got to the throne, the hearings had just finished. Hades, in his inexorable classical tunic, was standing up: as soon as he saw her he spread a smile. He handed the bident to a valet and went down the stairs, faster than he would’ve usually done. When he arrived, he put his hand on her shoulder and, bending down, gave her a delicate, chaste and formal kiss on her forehead. Persephone, in return, stood up a little on her toes and squeezed him, preventing him from moving away too fast, breathing in his scent. He smelled like winter sea.

Though politely, in the end Hades won their little fight: he straightened up, becoming unreachable. When he was straight and far away like a mountain top, he smiled and stroked her cheek.

Persephone jokingly disapproved, but it turned out that Hades was like that: he didn't like public display of affection. And even though their relationship was no longer a secret for any resident of the court, he was keen on appearances. He usually became much more affectionate when they were alone, a little out of shyness, a little by tradition, and a little to maintain the Inexorable mask that he had chosen. Even if the Goddess didn't know it yet, he would never have changed in that respect.

"Divine Persephone, more beautiful with each passing day."

Another habit that he would never have shaken off: to be formal every time they met again after a few hours away, no matter how deep their relationship was. He always had to greet her as a gentleman, at times he seemed willing to go back and use the _thou._

"My King, you’re beautiful too. You look good with long hair."

Persephone smiled allusively and reached out to his chest, caressing the silky smoothness of his hair. And it was true, she liked it long and smooth, perhaps more than short. He could choose its length at all times, like all Gods, but he used to keep it that way only when he was wearing traditional clothes, and Persephone had to admit that she was beginning to appreciate that ancient taste.

"And you look gorgeous with this blue peplum."

Persephone, happy that he had noticed, looked down at herself, proud of her choice, realizing at that moment that she was starting to dress much darker than she was used to. She said to herself that it was to better integrate, because the bright colors of her old clothes stood out too much in Erebus; but the reality was that she was starting to like dark colors more. She saw herself more elegant, not like a... _little girl_.

She tried not to think about it, though, and explained:

"I bought it this morning in the Ancient Greek district, for you."

"I like it." He confirmed, as usual, without wasting words in anything more specific. Then, he offered her the arm, the naked one, not covered by the _himation_. Finally, Persephone asked if they could walk a little before dinner, to better explore the palace that she hadn’t yet had a chance to see in every room. Hades accepted and, calmly, as if it were something they had always done, they started walking along the immense hallways.

They walked for a long time, the palace seemed endless. Persephone wasn’t sure if it was possible to actually learn the map. Too many corridors all the same, obsidian in the floor, in the walls and in the vaults; and then courtyards and rooms that followed one another without symmetry or logic. Like the city of Dis, Hades' palace seemed unlimited, as if it unrolled in front of the steps of those exploring it.

But the King was moving confident and Persephone felt comfortable standing next to him. He let her see the armory, the swimming pool, then some courtyards and a garden, which he called that, but which showed no vegetation whatsoever, not even grass. Finally, they happened in a large open-air cloister, surrounded by a patio of dark columns. There were two paths of gravel which, perpendicular, joined to the center of the square. And there, in the focal point, a fountain, surmounted by a statue of the same Hades.

It was huge. The original subject was already powerful enough to make a statue worthy, even on a natural scale. But no, anyone who had carved that magnificence, had even tripled the proportions: that one, immense block of black and gold marble gave the impression that Hades wanted to compete with a Titan.

He was represented in ancient robes, but not the chiton. He was in armor: a finely decorated cuirass, the sandals tight on the muscles of the calves, the bident in the right fist, and a draped cloak that simulated waving in the nonexistent wind. Finally, on his head, framing his cheeks and making his sharp face almost cruel, his helmet. Classic, in Spartan style, less decorated than the rest of the cuirass, all too simple; except for the plume, which started from the forehead and stretched, going down over the shoulders.

Persephone stopped to admire the sculpture. Hades, who was uninterested and about to lead her elsewhere, stopped in turn and gave her time to look.

"Wow. The armor suits you."

It was true, but at the same time Persephone received a feeling of fear in front of that sculpture. She had learned not to fear his inexorable gaze, not to fear him while he sat on the throne, but if one day she had found him in war armor and with that fierce look, she would’ve taken a step back. She was tempted to do it even now, by the way.

Hades had to notice, because he brought his hand on her back, between her shoulders, caressing her in both the cold and affectionate way that was his unmistakable signature.

"That's me during the Titanomachy."

"You looked glorious."

"I was."

Persephone smiled obliquely and gave him a wink.

"I wish I had been there to see if you’re telling the truth, Mr. Megalomaniac."

But the idea that he was so proud and so firm about all his decisions and actions, like all the Cronids, erased her smile again. She knew it was time to tell him how she felt about Alexios’ case.

But in Hades' contrasting and ruthless eyes, nothing could be hidden, and in fact he preceded her, with furrowed eyebrows and a worried look:

"What troubles you, Persephone?"

The primrose flowers in her brown hair became intimidated and closed, but not the same did the Goddess, who forced herself to speak directly and quickly.

"Well, you know, I was thinking back to what you said in Tartarus. That you never retract your judgments."

"And it's true."

Unfortunately, he didn’t give her the slightest window of doubt or hope. But Persephone didn’t let herself be crushed by the power of his certainty and replied:

"But what if you had the certainty that the sentence is wrong?"

"Not even in that case. A King retracting isn’t trustworthy."

"It’s not true, it’s the exact opposite. A King humble enough to retract is admirable, your subjects would understand it."

But no one had ever dared to speak of humbleness to a Cronid, and in fact Persephone was able to see a note of annoyance crossing his jaw muscle.

"The sentence of that child is right like that, Persephone, and you know it too."

"Yes, but it's not fair."

Sometimes it was incredibly easy to talk to him, others incredibly difficult. He always gave the impression of being a step ahead, of knowing already what was about to be said. It was disheartening to try to have an equal debate. But he didn’t do it voluntarily, on the contrary: it was just his nature, he himself always tried to come to her with infinite patience. And, in fact, he tried to be open-minded and gave her the opportunity to explain herself:

"What's wrong with that case according to you, Divine?"

"Well, it’s too logical. Perfect. And yet, everyone’s suffering, especially those who have done nothing. And the real culprit is still around."

"Who should be the real culprit?"

"The assailant of Eurydice, the one who was chasing her. I did some research, you know? It was Pirithous, an illegitimate son of Zeus."

"No less."

The idea of another son of Zeus making troubles caused a sarcastic smile in Hades, which disturbed Persephone. Her tone of voice became harsher, in fact:

"We're talking about a sexual assault, Hades."

"Attempted."

"Yes but…"

Hades responded to her insistence not with anger, but certainly with such firmness that left no room for anything, neither for dialogue, nor for hope.

"But nothing, Persephone. He was chasing her, he didn’t rape her, he didn’t kill her. I'm not saying he's a good man, but it's not relevant to the case. Moreover, he’s alive and we can’t go get him and judge his soul prematurely."

Persephone wanted to fight back with another _but_. She tried not to do it.

"If he hadn’t behaved like a troglodyte, Eurydice wouldn’t have been forced to run into the street and she wouldn’t have died."

"If Prometheus hadn’t given fire to humanity, there would’ve been no cars, and no one would’ve hit her. If my father hadn't castrated Uranus, we wouldn't be here talking. If Eurynome hadn’t danced with the Northern Wind, she wouldn’t have given birth to the universe. Who is to blame for everything, then?" He softened, looked down, "We can't go back too much, Kore. There’s a limit beyond which we cannot judge."

"And what’s this limit?" She replied, stubborn, "Because if you go back to Prometheus, of course, I too would tell you that we cannot accuse him for all sinners. But Pirithous was there, that evening, and he’s not just a butterfly flapping its wings and creating a storm from the other side of the world. His influence is evident and measurable, he’s directly involved and... it’s not possible that he’s the only one alive and happy."

But every window of debate was closed, Hades himself was closed when it came to his eternal beliefs. And now that he was there, standing still, he looked a lot like his own statue.

Persephone sighed, knew that nothing she had said was enough. Then again his words, glacial:

"Pirithous will pay according to his sins, when his time comes. Learn to wait, little girl. You can't make me change my mind leveraging on my hatred for my brother's bastards, or showing off a new peplum."

And this offended her, yes. For the first time since she had met him, she felt degraded. He had never done it, he had never gone so far as to diminish her intelligence.

"I'm not that naive. I bought the peplum just to please you, not to buy your compassion."

Persephone felt a lump in her throat and could no longer hold his gaze. Not out of fear, though: out of anger. She didn't want to see his face because she felt she could slap him. And meanwhile, treacherous tears were pinching her eyes. Stupid... stupid tears of anger: they made her seem weak even when she wanted to be quite the opposite.

She turned with her whole body, not to have to see either Hades or the vainglory of his sculpture. And there, while she was evaluating whether to leave, happened something surprising: the King kneeled down.

Persephone heard it because he was heavy in every movement, doubly if he rested on a surface, because the ground almost seemed to tremble. Then she turned, incredulous, and found him lying on one knee at her level. His gaze was serious and penetrating as before, but also contrite.

He took both her hands, lowered his head and kissed them, delicate.

"I’m sorry, Persephone. I spoke carelessly. Forgive me."

Persephone remained motionless, perplexed, while he squeezed her hands and gave her all the certain tranquility he was capable of. Because of course, Hades often said he was _mortified_ , but it was only a saying of etiquette, to be polite. Id was rare, for any Cronid, especially for one of the Kings, to humbly apologize. It was rare for them to kneel, to put their pride aside.

Knowing this, Persephone relaxed her shoulders. She softened a little. Hades left her hands, but only to bring them to her face and dry her tears with his thumbs.

"Sometimes I'm an idiot" he spoke so sincerely and colloquially that a giggle escaped her, sniffing, "I'm still Zeus' brother, we have something in common. But I swear to you, Divine, that I never thought you wanted to buy my compassion. I know you took that case to heart and I know that if you wanted to tell me about it, it's because you're working hard on it. What I don't know is why I said what I said. Maybe I'm just an old man with an old mentality, used to not sharing power with anyone. This will have to change, whether I like it or not. So, sorry. I will never dare again."

And if he said never again, so it would’ve been. If there was a positive side to Hades, it was that he could keep his word, and that he could do it for ever and ever. In short, he was able to promise not to be an asshole anymore, to keep his promise, and not to forget it until the end of time. This is why Persephone, who by the way was by nature incapable of holding a grudge, nodded and took pity on him. She believed him, because she loved him, but also and above all because he was incapable of lying.

"Apology accepted."

"And now let's make a pact, Divine" said Hades, quietly, also with a new-found smile, "You keep working. Investigate, build your defense. But I want _facts_. In return, when the time comes, I promise to consider reopening the hearing. Fine?"

For the first time, a glimmer appeared, a possibility, a minimum hope. A kneeling Cronid, who was admitted the possibility to change his mind: it was a unique event. Persephone herself, when she had introduced the topic, hadn’t hoped for such a rosy result.

She nodded firmly and frantically, therefore, with tight lips. She stared at him in his hard features, in his roman nose, in the chasms he had under his eyelids, and she felt good. She felt he was finally cooperative, as he had never been.

"Yes, that's fine. Thank you. It’s a deal."

She reached out her hand to seal the agreement. He took it, but didn’t shake it as he would’ve with another man: he turned it and gave her a delicate kiss on the back, touching it with frozen lips. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t treat women with gestures he considered masculine. But this, Persephone knew, took nothing away from the value of their pact.

"It’s a deal." He ruled, giving her a loyal smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeeh, I know. It was time to show at least some of his flaws, wasn't it?  
> But don't worry. I feel like the next chapter will please you. 😏


	22. Violence and love

After the agreement, things got lighter between the two of them, as if they had all of a sudden found the semblance of a balance between their very different ways of thinking. A balance that they had been looking for since the day of the conference, when Persephone had asked about the Styx, and that would only really have been consolidated once Alexios’ case had been resolved. But for now, that was fine.

Persephone was already largely heartened, in fact, when the God of the dead straightened up. He sighed, patient and still sorry for his behavior, and finally became more affectionate, perhaps because there was no one around: he stroked her hair, brushed the flowers still closed in her curls with a sweet smile.

"They’re very shy today."

"They were afraid to talk to you."

He exhaled a low, sad moan.

"Can I somehow make up for my disastrous observation?"

"You can. I want to see your armor, if you still have it."

He had it, of course. He was a nostalgic God: he would’ve never dared to get rid of his memorabilia or relics. He agreed to show it to her, and to see it they had to go to his private quarters. They didn't go to the bedroom, downstairs, but stopped in the halls just beyond the door, half hidden by the heavy purple curtains. Pulling one away, a large glass case appeared. Inside of it, the armor of Hades.

It was black, of the same color as the whole palace, so as to blend into the atmosphere. It seemed almost directly taken from the statue and placed there, because it didn't look any smaller. It had to be very heavy.

Hades said nothing and, preceding her requests, opened the case. Then he stepped aside and motioned her to come closer.

"Can I touch it?"

"It's a battle armor" the God joked, in that tone that made it all annoyingly obvious "I don't think your fingers can ruin it, Spring."

Persephone snapped a meaningful look, and then immediately returned to the armor. It was beautiful, but of an austere beauty, never exceeding. The pectorals were decorated with high-reliefs: they depicted the three kings attacking and defeating Cronus. It must have been decorated after the victory, then.

The Goddess came closer, almost touching it with her nose. She rested her hand on it and felt that, like the bident, the metal was too cold to be dealt with by mortal flesh. She traced the decorations, only with a finger, and noticed some cracks: the armor had been repaired. Following the trail, she saw that there were four large scratches and they matched with the ones Hades had on his chest.

"He hit me just once, but it was enough" his voice came deep suddenly, like distant thunder, "that was the first time I saw my ichor."

Persephone swallowed, frightened. A God who sees his own blood isn’t common, and Hades must have really bled so much with those terrible injuries. Persephone herself had never seen her own ichor: Gods don’t get injuries with common wounds and prosperity Goddesses like her don’t even bleed monthly, because they’re always fertile.

She looked at him, then, with her eyebrows curved in a look of pity and pain.

"How did it happen?"

"I was protecting your mother. Did she tell you?"

"Yes" and this had to surprise him, because he frowned, forcing Persephone to explain, "it's not like she told me the details, and she didn’t praise you, but she told me you saved her life."

Hades changed foot for support, uncomfortable and as usual convinced not to show it. He nodded and the long silky strands of his hair seemed to dance in the dim light of the room.

"He was about to hit her" he explained bitterly, "she had nothing but a tunic, he would’ve torn her to pieces. And believe me, Kore, when a Titan is going to hit you, even if you're a God, you have no doubt about how much can be mortal."

Persephone moved away from the dark armor, giving it one last general look.

"You’ve been very brave."

"Loyal" he corrected her, honestly, "loyal to a sister, it wasn’t bravery. I got in the way because it was my duty and my honor. And then I gave her the _Kunée_ to run away."

He pointed to the helmet, the one without decorations, with the long black plume on the back. It seemed older than the rest of the armor, perhaps because it was the only one that hadn’t been renovated or restored. 

Persephone knew what the Kunée was, it was a bit of a legend: the most powerful object that Hades possessed, a gift from the Cyclops. The helmet to him, the trident to Poseidon, the thunder to Zeus. Out of the three, it was probably the helmet the most precious: no weapon of offense, but no less important. It had the power to make those who wore it invisible, and it was because of that characteristic that Hades, among the other titles, had that of _Unseen_. A passive but deadly power, which perfectly described the character of its bearer.

Persephone knew that the Kunée was the object of which Hades was more jealous, more than the bident, and for this reason he kept it locked. To leave it to save Demeter must have been a very significant gesture. But looking at him now, with that metallic and angular expression, one would’ve said that nothing of the past feelings had remained. And, in fact, he coldly added:

"I got a claw from a Titan for her, and I was the only brother willing to do it. I gave her everything, I swore on the Styx for her, and what's left? Only her hatred."

It was difficult to read his feelings as he uttered those words. They should’ve been rancorous, and instead sounded just neutral.

Persephone reached out to touch his shoulder and reassure him.

"Mom still loves you very much."

"Did she tell you?"

"No. But I know. You’ll discover that I too can _know_ many hidden things, my King."

That joke had to raise his spirits, because she saw him take his eyes off the armor and place it on the furniture, at random, embarrassed. He smiled at one point, then changed his tone.

"Whatever the feeling of Demeter towards me, I’d be a monster if I had allowed her to use the Kunée, just to deny her daughter the same honor."

Persephone enlightened: her eyes widened, the floral crown was invigorated with curiosity. She saw him stretch his arms inside the case, and then grab the helmet with both hands and take it out, being careful not to ruin the black hair.

Finally, he turned and handed it to her.

"Can I try it on? Really?"

"If you promise me you can hold it without breaking your neck."

Persephone wasn’t at all sure, but she nodded anyway. She was too curious to try the gift of invisibility. She stretched out her hands to receive that gift. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her palms on the icy metal and took it. As expected: it was very heavy.

In the same instant in which she had it in her hands, she had an evil idea, and a lively expression appeared on her face. It was so obvious, that Hades couldn’t fail to notice: he looked at her skeptically as she backed away, her eyes wide and already guilty.

"Persephone? What are you doing?"

"Did I ever tell you I run very fast, Hades?"

He frowned thickly, suspiciously.

"No."

"Did I ever tell you that you look very, very, very slow with all those muscles?"

She tried to hold back her smile, but Hades understood. Now he too was looking at her defiantly, his eyes narrowed. He began to approach cautiously, like a hunter hunting for a prey.

"You won’t dare, little girl."

But Persephone was laughing now, stepping back with more speed.

"Oh no, I think I’ll dare, my King.”

" _Stop_."

He had tried to keep an authoritative tone, and he had succeeded, certainly anyone would’ve stopped. Except Persephone. She knew that the idea of chasing her was more fun than he wanted to admit.

"Your orders don’t sound credible while you laugh, my King!"

And, so saying, she slipped on the Kunée. It was too big.

She sprinted down the stairs, without looking back. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that he had tried to grab her, but he had failed: a sign that the helmet's power was hiding her, even though she didn't feel anything physically different.

She didn’t stop, not even to check if Hades was running after her: she got into the room, then into the elevator, heading for the Elysian Fields.

She ran.

She ran like she hadn't done since she was a child and played tag with nymphs and mortals. She cursed, because she still was wearing the peplum and it was slowing her down. She regretted a pair of leggings and converse. But still she continued to run, undaunted, trying not to leave a trail of flowers behind her.

She rushed into the Elysian Fields, which by now, after her countless visits, could no longer be defined as fields. She spun among the flowers, the rose bushes that dared not prick her. She ran at breakneck speed, frightening the shadows of the animals, usually attracted by her.

She began to wonder why Hades was nowhere to be seen, but she knew it was unwise to stop: he was a God with many tricks up his sleeve and he certainly knew his own kingdom more than she did. In fact, she understood the reason for his delay shortly after: a distant howl, a bark.

That infamous God had unleashed the dogs to hunt her down.

She mentally cursed him and ran again, aware that she was panting now and they would’ve soon found her. As expected, it wasn’t a very long escape: Aristera, a pointer, had spotted her among the cherry trees, not far from the banks of the Lethe. Alpha and Dexio, sent by their sister, had surrounded her.

They pranced. It was a game for them. They must have recognized her smell: they didn’t see her but wagged their tails and demanded her attention. Shortly after, she had all three of them all around, and it was impossible to shake them off.

"No!" She whispered, trying to push them away with unnecessary hand gestures, "No, go away, he’ll find me!"

"Who will find you, Divine?"

The voice of Hades, too close. How? Could he teleport?

Persephone tried to jump far from the source of the noise, but it was too late: she felt a mighty arm wrap around her belly and then lift her, as if she weighed nothing.

"I can’t see you, Divine, but I think I got you."

He had got her, in fact, and now he was carrying her on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, while the dogs returned to play around, aware that by now the prey had been captured. Persephone tried to kick, but there was no hope, he still had his arm around her body and that was enough to block her where she was.

"Let me go!"

"And you give me back what you stole."

Hades walked a few steps, just to get under a cherry tree. Then the useless kicking of Persephone had to annoy him, because he stopped. He loosened his hold for a moment to let her down, and Persephone seized the opportunity to try to escape: she slipped out of his arms, tried to sneak away like a weasel. But it was another vain act: she just managed to make them both fall to the ground, and to get his grip again.

"Take it off."

"No! That's my stuff now!"

" _Take it off, I said._ "

His voice was flat, while he caressed one of those strict orders that he liked so much. Persephone kicked and struggled, but every effort was useless: she hadn’t even managed to crack his voice, clear as a sign of black paint on a white wall.

Now Persephone was on top of him, and he was holding her tightly by the hips without any effort. That just made him more convinced in removing the helmet, and in fact he didn’t ask a third time: he raised his other arm, grabbed the helmet and held it up.

Suddenly he stopped. He smiled, beneath her, so close to her face: she must have reappeared at that moment.

"There you are." He blew, with an amused smile.

"You cheated" she accused, out of breath, "you had the dogs, you would’ve never found me otherwise!"

"Oh, _I_ cheated?" He retorted, sarcastically, tapping on the metal of the helmet with a fingernail, in a sound that exploded loudly in Persephone's ears, like inside a bell.

The Goddess finally surrendered: she lifted the Kunée, which was getting really heavy on the bones of her neck, and placed it next to them on the grass. There, apparently with no value, with the black crest that looked like a snake in the midst of vegetation.

Persephone took a moment to catch her breath and Hades released her, relaxing his arms. He was laying beneath her, Persephone straddling him as if she had knocked him down. In that position she felt much more victorious than she actually was.

When she had calmed down, she looked at him. He wasn’t tired, he just looked like he was waiting for, his hair ruffled on the ground and the band of the chiton a little out of place.

And suddenly, it was enough to look at him a second too long: it was clear to both of them that the atmosphere had changed. So, abruptly, desire fell heavily on them both, as they became serious.

Persephone pursed her lips, instinctively she moved her pelvis against him. Immediately, she felt Hades' breathing get shorter, his gaze more predatory, and his manhood take shape beneath her.

She let out a groan as she recognized his arousal, glad to be the one causing it. She narrowed his eyes, serene, excited. She raised the edge of the peplum a little to show him her thighs. His cold hands didn’t wait and squeezed both her thighs, first near the knee and then rising, more and more intense towards the buttocks.

Persephone gasped again and, even if she didn't want to, she moved away: she slipped a little lower, escaping the reach of his hands. She reached his knees, and there suddenly, to check her movements, he raised himself on his elbows. Immediately he uttered a lament of disapproval, when the hand of Persephone crossed his sex, from above the cloth of the chiton.

"Kore..."

"Yeah?"

"It’s not necessary."

Persephone shook her head, playful, disapproving.

" _Necessary_? Such a bad word to define love."

"I'm serious. You don't have to do it to reciprocate, it's not... necessary."

"You sound like a broken record, my King."

At that point, he clenched his jaw. He inhaled powerfully, while Persephone still touched him from above the tunic, and finally he let himself fall again on the ground. For now, he seemed to have given up.

The Goddess felt entitled to proceed. Because yes, she wanted to do it, not just to reciprocate, as he thought. She just wanted to do it, she felt like it. Was it so strange? Was it so hard to understand for an old Cronid? Maybe. But she would’ve made him change his mind.

She fumbled with his black chiton, not very sure which way to take it, or open it. But she didn’t let herself be intimidated and merely raised it, freeing his sculpted legs and then his manhood.

Persephone was stunned, though perhaps she shouldn't have. She had only glanced at it briefly during the bath, some time before, but she would’ve had to know anyway: Hades was a greater God, handsome like all the Cronids, perfect and powerfully gifted as it was proper to his divine lineage. And for a moment Persephone, daughter of a generation that had preserved almost nothing of the Titans’ genealogy, didn’t feel at all perfect in her limited stature, in her broad hips. At that moment, more than ever aware of all her flaws and the difference in size, she even wondered if it was physically _possible_ tolie with the Inexorable.

He who, now, had returned to look at her on his elbows, waiting for her reaction. Persephone knew that perhaps he was even more anxious than her. He had said he didn't want to appear like a Titan, but at that moment unfortunately for him he totally was.

"Oh, you are..." she murmured, just to avoid an awkward silence, "your… size is quite significant."

"Yes" he didn’t even try to deny it, humbleness really wasn’t his quality, and he became almost insinuating, " _maybe_ this was the reason why I wanted to take it slow, little girl."

"Don’t call me that."

"You like it. _I know_."

Persephone rolled her eyes, guilty and embarrassed, with a trembling breath. She tried to take back the reins of the dispute.

"I’m a Goddess of fertility, my King" she teased, sensual, "you shouldn’t underestimate me."

"I don’t. I just want us to respect the right timing. We’re burning many stages, that's not how it was supposed to be."

But the Goddess, regaining her confidence, came back to touch him on the whole length, feeling the heat in every single vein, so unusual on a body that was usually so cold. She snatched a groan from him and was both happy and amused when she realized he was losing all his inexorability.

"Look who’s talking! You’re the one making passive-aggressive marriage proposals and constantly repeating I should stay in your bed."

"It has nothing to do with it, that is... just what will be. But we have to get there step by step. I can wait."

"I know you can wait, but I can't, Hades. So, look into my eyes and tell me you want me to stop."

That provocation caused his jaw to tighten. He stiffened all the muscles of the body, causing a spasm to his sex, which by now had reached its maximum size. He did look into her eyes and seemed about to say something, but he didn't stop her. He didn't make it.

Persephone rejoiced.

She grasped it with her hand that looked tiny in comparison. She began to move, causing him a pleasure that, unlike all the other emotions, he couldn’t hide at all. Then, when she was sure he was captivated as she was, she leaned forward and kissed him on the tip, experimenting. But again, he didn’t stop her, instead he had slightly arched in anticipation. Persephone was encouraged to do more: she opened her lips, savored the sour taste, salty and sweet at the same time, as deep as she could.

Soon Hades' chest began to rise and fall at the same rate as Persephone's movements. His pleasure became almost palpable, through his sighs and his moans.

It was precisely when Persephone began to feel _empty_ in her own sex, that, providentially, his hand came to stop her: he touched her hair first, then slipped under her chin and pulled her up. The Goddess looked up and saw him returning, yes, but only for a second.

A moment later, the situation reversed. Fast, more agile than he could appear, the God of the Underworld lifted her towards him and, turning, he placed her on the ground. It was a gesture both violent and kind, both strong and sweet, a bit like sex itself. And when he was on top, kissing her frantically, so differently than his usual behavior, Persephone couldn’t help but open her legs and welcome him.

She felt his passion as he untied her peplum, raised it on her thighs, opened it on her neckline, and meanwhile kissed her so deeply that Persephone took it as a prelude to what was about to happen. She felt like dying inside, her belly contracted. Until she was naked, except for only two laces on her stomach, clinging to him and nailed to the ground by his weight.

"This wasn’t supposed to happen" he mumbled chaotic, as he continued to kiss every spot of skin on her neck, her shoulder, " you're too impatient, Spring."

As if he was seeking an evidence of his assertions, he lowered his hand, put it between her legs, and moistened his fingers of her folds. He smiled fiercely, pleased. He put his fingers on her lips and made her taste her own arousal.

When he removed his fingers, Persephone again provoked:

"It looks like we're _both_ impatient, now."

But Hades' cold face never left room for doubt and the same was true for his eyes, his certainty now so close, so difficult to bear. He slowed down for a moment, only to ask for a final, formal consent.

"You should be my bride. Not like this."

But the Goddess sighed, she felt obliged to reassure him.

"You’re one who wants everything" she pursed her lips, ran a hand over his shoulder to pull him closer, "but I'm not like you, accept it. I only know what I want now, and I want to be with you. Please, my King... let it go. There's nothing wrong."

Only another moment he looked at her, and Persephone realized that he was analyzing her, he was digging inside her soul like he did with the defendants in the hearings, to look for a doubt, a scratch in her consent. But he found nothing. On the contrary, the certainty of her feelings finally pushed him beyond the pre-established plan, so unfit for a relationship with the Spring.

He resumed kissing her more passionately than before. At that moment Persephone felt all the lust of the Gods, of which her mother had always warned her. That powerful desire, which could make even a God like the Inexorable lose his composure.

She felt him loosen his belt and get rid of his clothes, and suddenly the importance of what was about to happen, which she had thought absent, descended on Persephone's conscience like an anvil. But not frightening her or making her want to stop him, no: her mind filled with expectation, with desire. There was a note of fear of pain, undeniably, but it also was of the lowest amount she could ever experience.

Hades positioned between her thighs in a perfect joint. Now that there was nothing to separate them, Persephone felt his warmth and his hardness press. She instinctively looked down, knowing it was going to happen.

"Look at me. Please." Hades’ voice was suddenly quiet, not cracked by the previous lust.

He wanted her to look into his eyes because no one ever did it, and the Goddess was now the only one who could sustain his power so closely. But above all, he wanted her to look at him to convey all the certainty he could. Because Hades was a gentleman, always, no matter how eager he was to take her: he transmitted all his peace in a moment between the blink of an eye and the other.

It always was like a small taste of death.

Persephone was enchanted by those eyes that were too black, too white. She almost lost herself, as she had done the first time, intoxicated with the drug of certainty. Then, suddenly, pain between her legs. Hades pressed on the barrier of her virginity and then suddenly slid over, penetrating her, changing her from inside and opening her to a new phase of her life.

It was painful, yes. Persephone choked a scream in the hollow of his shoulder. She held back her tears, because she feared that they would’ve made her look regretful about her choice. But she never repented, even in that moment so violent, so invasive.

She clung to him, squeezing him tightly, breathing frantically against his cold skin. The God had to feel her stiffness, because he remained still, letting her get used to the new condition, to the foreign presence.

"Hush, Kore..." he whispered directly in her ear, the most affectionate words he had ever uttered, "relax, I won’t cause you pain any longer."

The Goddess obeyed, swallowing, because she realized that she was really too tense. The pain slowly disappeared, but Hades, who as he always said was really patient, never moved to impose her his penetration more than he had already done. Instead, he brought his fingers on their sexes for the second time, touching her while he was still inside her. When he brought the hand closest to their faces he was serious.

"Look, Persephone."

He showed her his fingers and the Goddess, for the first time in her life, saw her ichor, the divine blood. Not red but pearl, white and shimmering gold. Hades had seen his for violence, Persephone was seeing hers for love, and she was grateful.

Even Hades took a moment to admire the few light drops, analyzing the color. He looked grave, grimacing behind the disheveled locks that had fell before his face. It was the expression of a man who had just witnessed something sacred, to celebrate and respect. That's why he had taken it from the beginning as a ceremony: for him those few drops of ichor were a gift. Persephone wasn’t yet his wife, perhaps, but she was happy to have given them to him.

"Thank you for your trust, girl becoming a woman. I’m honored to be your first one."

He said it with such a solemn attitude that, for a moment, Persephone thought it was an ancient ceremonial form, which he had taken from some forgotten custom. And, even if she would’ve never have said it, with that tone, that situation, that gleaming glow in the soft light of the Elysium, even Persephone felt the sacredness of that moment. She felt new. _Persephone_ , no longer _Kore_.

Hades put his hand on the ground and the ichor got lost on the grass: as soon as it had been spilled, it was forgotten. Then Hades started kissing her and moving inside her. Only for another moment it hurt, then pain gave way to that pleasure of lying with a man, of feeling him in the womb, completing a void that had been there for too many years. The God kept thrusting harder and deeper, grasping her thighs, kissing her breasts, while Persephone arched beneath him and finally felt complete, alive, fertile.

It all lasted a little eternity, or so it seemed to Persephone. Who, in the end, came around him, clinging to his back, even scratching him, feeling like melting and becoming one with him. Hades joined her a little later: breathless, his lips tightened, he imposed on her two more powerful thrusts. And finally he stiffened, stopping, expanding into her with a thousand contractions and giving her his seed; there, under a cherry tree in the Elysian Fields, on the banks of the Lethe.

Persephone opened her eyes wide, immediately reinvigorated, suddenly frightened. She felt his warmth dripping between her thighs as he slipped away, and she was afraid that something irreparable had happened.

She sat up, panting, sweating, her hair untidy. Just for a moment Hades was confused, pleased with his own effort, because in a second he understood the problem: he reached out a hand towards her, took her behind her head, made her lean her forehead on his.

"Don't worry" he panted, grateful and mortified at the same time, "not even a fertility Goddess could make something out of my seed."

Persephone stared at him, kneeling in front of her, against his sweaty forehead. She felt everything stronger, from the touch on the grass, to the sound of the waterfall of the Lethe, to the scent of cherry blossoms. 

"Oh... I'm sorry. Are you... are you…?"

She wanted to ask if he was sterile, but she didn’t want to be harsh and, anyway, just a second later, she _knew it_ herself. She felt it. She felt that his seed was dying already inside her.

Hades closed his eyes, suffering and for the first time unable to hide it. He shook his head slightly, squeezed her neck tighter, holding her close to him.

"Forgive me, please. I’ll never be able to give you children."

For just a moment Persephone felt lost. Immediately, in fact, she wanted to console him: she imposed herself on him, hugged him, sat on his lap. Skin against skin, naked, quiet, she told him with her silence that she didn't care, it was fine.

Everything was fine the way it was.

As they hugged, just as she was there to comfort him, she saw that his hand resting on the ground had grazed one of her flowers, a narcissus. He had killed it: its dry skeleton was lying motionless, surrounded by blades of grass that were just now turning yellow. Then Persephone learned that Hades had held onto that part of his power so far, and he now was showing it because he thought it was time, hoping she could accept it. And finally, he made his confession:

" _Nothing can be born from death_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weeell... I'm leaving this chapter here... whistling casually, playing it cool... 🙄😂  
> Oook, so, chapters like this are always so difficult to write, so I hope you like it! *.*


	23. The blame for winter

Hades often spoke of patience, of the value of waiting the right time for everything. He was an ancient God, son of Time itself, which for had a whole different course: he perceived it differently, for him centuries were days, millennia were weeks; he even used hours and days in mortal notation just because souls and employees were used to it. So yes, there was a logic in his maniacal wait, in his lack of sleep, in his quiet walking, in his patient way of talking. But now that he was there, leaning his head on Persephone's breasts, drawing circles around her navel with his thumb, it seemed as if the reason for his calmness was completely different: as if, after all, slowness was also a way to fully enjoy certain moments, certain details.

Every hour spent with him had the same weight as a small eternity. Perhaps that was why Demeter had previously called him boring. But Persephone, for her part, never got bored with him, not even a second in all their perpetual relationship. And not even now, on the shores of the Lethe, silently listening to the nearby waterfall, admiring the pink flowers of the cherry tree under which she had become a woman.

They were silent because there was nothing to say. Persephone had slept lightly, resting her heavy legs and the fatigue caused by love. When she had woken up, Hades was still there, motionless, awake and resting on her chest. Neither of them had any idea what time or what day it was, and everything seemed perfect as it was: a static scene, like a painting destined to remain the same for centuries and centuries, to be admired by someone else.

The Goddess sighed, stretched a little and stroked his head. The silk of his dark hair slipped between her fingers. Only feeling her awake, Hades moved, turning his head. 

"Hi, my King."

A thin smile, then he closed his tame eyes.

"Hi, Divine. Did you sleep well?"

"Very well. But you didn’t at all, did you?"

He denied frowning, almost guilty. Persephone stroked his temple.

"You could try again, you know? Nightmares don't always happen, you were just unlucky. You could dream of something beautiful."

"Nothing could satisfy me more than reality, at the moment."

Persephone smiled, flattered, but she knew it was an excuse. At that moment it occurred to her that it was strange how Hades treated sleep: he said he didn't need it, he didn't want to try it anymore, but he kept looking at her while she slept; and every time, when she woke up, he asked her how it had been.

He seemed almost envious.

Persephone didn’t investigate and decided that, even if he wanted to try again, Hades would’ve needed time. He was slow in everything, even in accepting changes, and dealing with him in every aspect of life was always a long wait. It was fine for Persephone, she respected it.

Just at that moment, providentially, another all-human need that wasn’t sleep: Persephone’s stomach gurgled and Hades couldn’t help hearing it, still leaning with his ear on her sternum. He chuckled, in fact, and his temples stretched while he smiled.

"Very human, Kore, very human."

Persephone blushed, embarrassed from head to toe. It made her laugh and Hades' head hopped to the rhythm of her own body.

"Don't make fun of me, feed me instead!"

"And also very authoritative after intercourse, it seems." He joked, but then immediately obeyed.

He got up, propped on the ground with his hands. And when he was standing naked, his alabaster skin, his defined muscles and his gaze fixed on the tops of the trees, he seemed more than ever a sculpture of himself. In fact there were no statues representing the God of the Underworld, they had never been carved in the whole history of humanity; Persephone was beginning to think that it was better this way, because no marble, no mortal mastery could’ve represented him properly, as they had never done with any of the other Cronids.

The God remained motionless for a moment, peering upwards, moving only his eyes. Finally, he walked away a few steps, flanked a pomegranate tree and caught one of its fruits, too high for Persephone to reach. Coming back, he handed it to her, and she accepted it willingly, sitting up with her knees folded close to her chest.

Persephone began to open it, in a messy way. Hades, meanwhile, instead of sitting back, stood looking at her, leaning with his arms folded against the trunk of the cherry tree. Persephone felt like having a condor flying over her head, examining her threateningly.

Persephone thanked him for the fruit and, once she had managed to peel it off, began to draw the ruddy beans directly with her fingers. She offered some to Hades as well, but he accepted just one of them, which he took directly between his lips from her fingers.

Then, unexpectedly, in the static silence of the Elysium, a lonely word:

" _Four._ "

Persephone frowned, raised her head towards him, suspicious.

"Four what?"

Hades didn't answer right away, and it was something he did often, so Persephone waited without worrying. After a few seconds and a couple of deep breaths from him, a partial explanation came:

"Four times you ate pomegranate, and of these only two offered by me. You seem to like the fruits of the Underworld, Divine."

"Well, it's a forced choice. They’re the only fruits you have."

She said it as joke, but it was true. As the same God had repeatedly said, nothing grew in Erebus, and certainly nothing gave fruit. After the arrival of Persephone plants had grown, and they were all lush, green, healthy and flowery. But static. Without the passing of days and seasons, they gave no fruit. Demeter was the protector of harvests, not her daughter.

The pomegranate plants were the only ones to make an exception and Persephone couldn’t explain why. When she had arrived they were already growing in the Elysian Fields, their fruits were indeed the only sweetness the Underworld could offer. They were also sacred to Hades himself, along with narcissus flowers. That was why he considered an honor when she ate them.

The God, however, didn’t laugh at the joke, on the contrary, he frowned, and Persephone immediately regretted it. She didn't mean to offend him.

"Hey, sorry, I was joking. I like pomegranate, I eat it because I want it."

"But you’d eat cherries, if there were any."

"I’d _also_ eat cherries. And then you can import them, am I right?"

But his voice became even more blunt and sarcastic, his jaw harder.

"Yes, but I don't like depending on the fruits of my brother's kingdom. I do it for you, because you’re a vegetarian. The lack of fruit, cereals and legumes would reduce your diet by more than a half. Will you let me be sorry for it, if not even worried?"

Persephone rolled her eyes: look who was talking! A whole lecture on eating little from a God who didn’t eat at all.

She then spread an impertinent smile, and stood up, still with the pomegranate in her folded hands. She approached him, too tall, and to avoid looking straight into his stomach she had to throw her head back.

"Do you see this?" She leaned her belly, tilted her pelvis to show her prosperous hip, all too much to human aesthetic standards, "I’m chubby, my King. I'm not starving. Also, I can't die, but I don't think I need to remind you."

And finally Hades' face was conquered by a minimum of hilarity, mixed with a pinch of lust. He loosened his folded arms, in fact, and with one of his broad hands grabbed her waist, squeezing her flesh.

"Precisely because I like you _chubby_ I wish you would stay this way."

"Then give me a lot of pomegranates and we're fine."

She joked, winked at him, and he nodded so imperceptibly that the shadows drawn from his neck, chin, and facial features didn't even move. When he spoke, his tone was serious again, escaping from his lips in the form of heavy words.

"What I mean" he explained patiently, "is that I'm aware that here it's not like on the surface. The climate, the cold souls, the lack of light. I know it’s hard for you, if not now, it will be."

Persephone ate some other grain and shook her head, convinced, her eyes wide open in a shocked expression.

"I like it here. The Elysian Fields are wonderful."

"But fake. Demeter hated them, she said they looked like a pale imitation of the world."

"I'm not my mother."

"No. No, of course you're not. I..." it was strange to see him so worried, so uncomfortable with the words, "I’m very grateful to you for everything you did here. I have had the Elysium for about two hundred thousand years and I’ve never been able to make it as pleasant as you did in a few weeks."

"But it’s not true, it was lovely or even befo..."

But Hades put both his hands on her shoulders and sighed heavily, pursing his lips. He hinted that he wanted to finish the speech without being interrupted.

"Persephone, you're bringing a big change, this is what I mean. It's all new to you as it is to me. And for me it’s hard, even if I like having you here. And, if for you it’s the same, I want you not to feel trapped. If you want to go back to the surface occasionally, you can go."

"You talk like I've been segregated here for centuries."

And those had to be the wrong words, because they made him stiffen. Persephone felt released in her shoulders by the weight of his retreating hands. But the discomfort Hades was trying to reflect on her was all his, because never once did Persephone feel trapped, and she wanted to be able to explain it. She felt _good_ in Erebus, why couldn’t Hades understand it?

She then stretched out her arm and touched his bicep, with a consolatory attitude. She felt the cold muscle harden under her soft fingers.

"Hades, I'm happy here, I really mean it. If you want to know the whole truth, I have never felt so at ease."

"It's not at all logical that you like it down here."

But how could he ask for logical explanations even when it was all about instinct, feelings, sensations? The idea that he wanted to bring everything back to a mathematical calculation caused her to grin, shaking her head. But she tried to explain it, for him, because she knew he needed it.

"Look, you're used to other Goddesses maybe, I don't know. You often compare me to my mother, and I know she would hate it here. Even Artemis would hate Erebus because there are no real animals to hunt, and Aphrodite would hate it because there isn’t enough beauty. But I'm not them. I like Erebus. I like _you_."

And these, yes, were the right words, words that perhaps he had never heard and in which he pretended not to bask, even though Persephone knew they pleased him. Then she resumed, lighter:

"And then, to tell the truth, the surface is overrated. Once, maybe it could’ve been better for me, but now there's no more space. There's just smog, asphalt. Even when I went to the countryside there were only proscriptions, people go crazy if you grow even just one edelweiss in Sicily."

This made him laugh loudly, one of the very few times he also showed his teeth, as white as the rest of his body. And at that point, as if they had read their minds, both looked around a bit, in that forest that made no sense: there were plants of all shapes and colors, belonging to the most disparate biomes, arranged in a mad way, randomly. Palm trees and conifers, redwoods and cherry trees, apple trees and aloe vera. All that could flourish was blooming. There was very little logic in that part of the Elysian Fields touched by Persephone’s power, and it was perhaps the reason why Hades felt so lost.

"I never felt limited here" she spoke sincerely, admiring her own work, "on the contrary, I’ve done so much with my powers. It was liberating and I’d like it to go on. The surface doesn’t need me, Erebus does."

Maybe yes, that was her place, the place where she could really be helpful, be someone. Not the surface, not Olympus, both already abundant with other Gods protectors of nature, more powerful than her and making her a redundant and useless deity. However, in Erebus Persephone didn’t feel to be _just_ the Spring; she was the Spring in the Underworld, life in death, optimism in adversity. For that, in fact, there was no protector, it wasn’t a position some God had already claimed. It was hers. It was Persephone’s.

Perhaps she was finally carving out her own role.

"Good" Hades ruled, neutral as when holding the bident, transmitting the idea that he was making an important decision at that moment, "then, Divine, from today on, all this is yours."

Persephone widened her eyes, stepped back.

"What?"

"The Elysium. I want you to consider it yours. You can come here when you want, even by your own: I’ll give you the access, I’ll instruct the staff."

What was it, a gift? Symbolic perhaps, but still too big.

But there was nothing _too much_ for a Cronid and Hades immediately showed it, as soon as she tried to argue:

"Are you giving me a gift? The one you promised me in that gelateria in Rome?"

"Oh, you remember, then" he smiled and vehemently denied, "no, that gift has yet to come, you'll see. The Elysium has always been yours. I can't give you something that's already your domain."

Persephone laughed at his passive way of being romantic. She felt even more grateful and then hugged him, her hands still covered with pomegranate. She squeezed him with all the strength she possessed (not much) and her useless effort again caused hilarity in the God, who barely had to feel her around his solid chest.

"Thank you, Hades. _I feel so good around you._ "

It came out like this, natural, and somehow for him it was worth much more than a more explicit declaration of love, because he returned the embrace.

"Three hundred thousand years that I wait for these precise words" he whispered quietly, "they sound even better than I imagined."

When Persephone finished the pomegranate and threw away the residues, the Goddess herself said she had to clean her hands and face. Hades then, with a sort of quiet listlessness, told her to follow him and led her to the Lethe, taking the Kunée with him for apprehension of leaving it unattended. It took only a couple of minutes to get there, but it took Persephone much more time to use its waters.

"Isn't it dangerous? They’re waters of oblivion, do I risk forgetting something?"

But Hades lowered himself first and plunged his hand to show her that everything was fine. The river’s water seemed made of diamond dust, slipping through his fingers like a veil of fine oriental silk.

"Just don’t drink. They’re the thermal waters serving our room, you've already taken a bath. Don't be afraid: even the Lethe is yours, now."

But, in any case, to Persephone it seemed a lack of respect to wash herself in those lustral waters. In the end, she let herself be persuaded only by necessity: she crouched on the shore and stretched out her hands in that liquid wealth. The water was warm. It was thanks to Lethe that the entire climate of the Elysian Fields was more bearable than the city of Dis.

Persephone washed and then, all of a sudden, the placid voice of the Lord of the Underworld arrived from a little distance away. A caring voice and, somehow, even timid.

"Are you still hungry, Kore?"

Persephone nodded.

"Let's go back then, I'll have a meal prepared."

"Thank you so much, my King."

And yet, something was wrong, as if the speech wasn’t concluded, left hanging in the warm air of that paradise. Persephone, turning her head and peering at her companion, saw him frowning, undecided, as if he were facing the calculation of a complex equation in his mind.

"I see you’re thoughtful, Hades."

He recovered, shrugging his shoulders a little. He looked away at the most distant bends of the river, unable to hide a certain shame.

"Can I ask how it is?"

"What?"

"Hunger."

Persephone was dumbfounded. She stood up, still wearing only her skin as a dress. She tilted her head and curled a strand of hair around her fingers, a usual tic when she became curious.

"You never felt it, seriously?"

He denied, dry. Persephone was astonished. Of course, she knew that Hades didn’t usually experience hunger, but in three hundred thousand years, never? It seemed too strange.

Yet at the same time, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Hades wasn’t like the other Gods, much more in contact with mortals and with the other Pantheons. Many of them had long since given in to human weaknesses, including Demeter. But Hades had always been isolated, so why should he change habits?

"Oh, hunger is like... a stomach contraction."

She felt stupid to explain something like that, but she knew that from that point of view for Hades nothing was obvious, and some things had to be explained to him as if he were a child. In fact, she saw gratitude in his always cold way of nodding.

"Is it painful? Pleasant?"

"Neither of them. It’s not pleasant, but it’s pleasant to satisfy it. Food tastes much better if you eat with appetite. The same goes for sleep. These are things that mark your day and make it more varied."

Hades pursed his lips in a skeptical expression. He smoothed back his hair and his surly nose stood out perfectly in his profile.

"Sounds like a waste of time."

But Persephone approached him and tried not to let him see it in the square way he saw all things.

"Eating and sleeping steal time, but you gain in well-being. Like love, my King. Don’t tell me that _possessing me_ was a _waste of time…_ "

And there, an impertinent smile drawing in his features.

"Don't put words I never said in my mouth, little girl."

"So don't serve them, _uncle_."

That epithet had to either amuse or annoy him somehow, because he had one of those reactions that weren’t typical of his attitude: he raised his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

He didn't do anything else, though. After a while, he let the subject fade again, and once again it was Persephone who had to bring it back: the God of the dead was easily lost in his silences.

"What were you thinking about, Hades? Why this curiosity?"

He shrugged, pretending to be disinterested, detached.

"Nothing important. I’ve always thought that humans are luckier than they think, for these little joys. But I also thought they were for them only, or for the ruder Gods" he shot her a contrite look, "before you reduce me to ashes with that look, no, I never thought you were rude. That’s why it’s unusual. You’re very comfortable with your lifestyle, and I never thought I could say it, but I admire it."

And there Persephone had the confirmation that, though he tried to keep his distance, Hades was very curious about human weaknesses. Then, cautious, approaching like a deer on the alert, she proposed more:

"You could try it yourself, you know? There’s nothing wrong, it doesn’t make you less of a God, id doesn’t make you _rude_. Mom also took my lifestyle in the end, she says she likes it. Maybe you’ll like it too."

"And how should I do?"

Persephone felt almost uncomfortable, finding herself the expert of the situation. Having the opportunity to teach something to a millennial being was as exciting as it was shocking.

"Oh, well, just get used to it. If you start eating and sleeping regularly, then your body will adjust."

She studied him a little longer, and in his timid indecision she found in equal measure curiosity and skepticism. The Goddess knew that it was a step that attracted him, perhaps to get closer to her and her lifestyle, and she was very grateful for this. But at the same time, he would never have convinced himself without a little help. In some respects, the God of the dead was one who had to be comforted often.

It was there that an idea came to Persephone, a spark, struck by a thousand and more incidental considerations of which she had been aware at that precise moment. She was fine in Erebus, wasn’t she? And Hades had done so much for her: he had given her the opportunity of an internship, he had always treated her with an impeccable gallantry, he had even sworn on the Styx for her, and finally he had just given her what she considered a white canvas for an artist: the Elysium. Considering all this, Hades didn’t ask for much in return. He was certainly demanding in the workplace, but he was so in the role of boss, not companion. As a man, he had paradoxically proved to be very humble.

And, then, the idea: perhaps, Persephone could let it go, even on her part. She could’ve tossed away her fear of gossip, of the fact that it was too early. She could’ve, finally, given him that one thing he desired.

"Hades, if by chance you want to try" she began, cautiously, excitedly, "if you want, I can help you get used to the new lifestyle. I mean... up close. Well, I could stay here with you."

The God opened his eyes wide, too wide. He turned quickly, looked at her incredulously.

"Do you accept my hospitality?"

Persephone nodded, with an embarrassed smile.

"If you want."

Of course he wanted, perhaps it was the greatest desire he had felt for a long time, even more pressing than the sexual one: he demonstrated it by narrowing his eyes and then hugging her tightly, lifting her from the ground and smiling with his head buried in her shoulder.

Persephone laughed, happy, and above all happy to have given him such happiness. She still couldn't get over that obsession, but for him it was really important, and after all maybe it was time to take a step forward in the relationship.

"But I don't want the Queen's rooms" she made it clear, still a sweet victim of his sincere embrace, "I wouldn't feel at ease alone. I'd rather be with you, in your quarters."

Hades hastened to reassure her:

"That's fine, Kore. I offered you a private room for your convenience, not for obligation. Having you in our bed every night will be a great honor for me."

He squeezed her a little more and from so close Persephone could feel his manhood pressing on her belly. In fact, shortly after both allowed themselves to sink in excitement and happiness for all those new things. So, the Spring and the God of the dead were bonded together for the second time.

They spent in that spot between the forest and the river countless other hours, then they knew they had to go back, at least to find out what day it was. Living in that little bubble of Elysium wouldn’t have erased what was outside, the inexorable flow of souls and judgments.

They dressed again, and Hades recovered the Kunée, which had stayed beside them all the time. They returned untidy, calling the dogs that had gone to play in a small valley. They took the elevator, went up, and it was like being torn from a dream. Lastly, when they arrived in the room, the dream broke entirely: Persephone had recovered her mobile phone and realized she had twenty notifications from Caterina.

Immediately, the Goddess feared something horrible could have happened.

" _Hi Kore. Watch the news_."

" _Seriously, turn on immediately, look._ "

" _Your mother. She freaked out. Call her_."

" _Are you there?_ "

And so on, to cover half an hour of alarmism. Persephone felt guilty for not being available for so long. Worried, she looked around for the TV remote control. Hades, who was going to put away the helmet, became aware of her agitation and stopped.

"Persephone?"

"I have to see the news. It’s mom, something happened."

Hades frowned and put the helmet on an armchair. He went to the wall and turned on the huge flat-screen TV, touching a hidden button. He tuned in to a random channel but, since Hades had only news channels on the favorite list, they immediately found what they needed: Demeter, surrounded by journalists just outside her house. She was wearing a coat and sunglasses, in a clear day in late autumn. In the distance, Persephone saw her own garden, with bare trees, and was once again grateful to be in the neutral and eternal Erebus.

" _I'm not going to talk about it now. Please, let me get bak at home, I’d like to have some privacy._ " Demeter was saying in the video, while the journalists pressed her and crowded around her, handing her the microphones.

" _You’re her mother, Divine. Aren't you going to do anything about Proserpina's kidnapping?_ " A female voice out of the picture implied.

" _My daughter wasn’t kidnapped. I can't believe you’re still thinking about this story._ "

" _But how do you explain the photos in which your uncle pushes her into the car?_ "

" _There’s nothing new about it: as I said, there was no violence and my daughter wasn’t kidnapped. My brother is a fair God and I’m tired of your insinuations._ "

Demeter's frustration was evident in the video at least as evident was Hades' astonishment on his hairless and hard face, feeling supported by his sister. Both he and Persephone continued to watch in silence.

" _So where is Proserpina at the moment?_ "

" _In the Underworld for an internship, she went there voluntarily._ "

" _But Proserpina protected the spring. Has her absence influenced the adverse weather events of these months?_ "

And that was where it happened, as a result of that precise insinuation. Demeter froze. She became like marble, so similar to her brother Hades. She took off her sunglasses with a chilling slowness: perhaps she didn’t have the power of certainty in her eyes, but she could transmit much anger, and she didn’t spare a drop of it on that occasion.

" _Weather events?_ " She hissed through clenched teeth, the golden irises flashing with rancor, " _Human, you are talking to me about weather events? And what's more, you are trying to blame my daughter?_ "

But the off-screen journalist insisted. Unconscious.

" _I’m just saying that in these two months there have been drops in temperature well below the seasonal average, and the flood of the Venetian lagoon due to unusual bad weather..._ "

But Demeter couldn't stand it any longer. She clenched her fists and turned to the reporter with the veins on the neck pulsating.

" _There is bad weather because it's winter, you idiots! It has been happening for billions of years and you still haven't understood it? And the flood, well, it's all your fault, your fucking large cruise ships and the pollution of the lagoon, all dangers I’ve warned you about for years!_ "

A Goddess using vulgarity in public wasn’t a common event, and in fact this only fueled the other journalists: the flashes fired more frequently, the questions overlapped more vigorously.

" _Do you mean that you Gods have no influence at all on this, although it’s in your power?_ "

" _I mean that until two months ago you didn't even recognize my daughter, and now you’re blaming her for winter! Can you hear how stupid you sound?_ "

" _What is the point of praying if you don’t intervene in these calamities?_ "

" _Oh, so it's my fault as well now. Good._ "

Demeter raised her hands, pursed her lips and closed her eyes, trying to hold back a rage that, Persephone knew, would’ve exploded in no time. She herself was afraid of it. Her mother knew how to be one of the most terrible deities, second only to Hera.

" _Proserpina must return._ "

" _Honestly, if you want to treat us like that, I hope she stays in the Underworld as much as possible_."

" _She must do her duty here. If it’s true that she hasn’t been kidnapped, she’s now neglige..._ "

But the journalist couldn’t finish, it was the last straw.

Demeter trembled, seemed to grow taller. Immediately, there was silence. As had happened with Hades, the journalists began to walk away, to spread a bubble around her.

When she spoke, her voice was no longer hers. Too deep, with a ghostly returning echo.

" _Shut up, mortal. Don't you dare talk of negligence in front of a Goddess. I will not forget your insult to me and my daughter, this is hybris._ "

As she spoke, the environment around her was getting scary. Everything was dying: the grass in the garden was turning yellow, the trees were not only without leaves, but now also dried up to the point of becoming dust. Even the metal railing behind the Goddess was rusting.

She spoke again and sounded more than ever like a disappointed mother.

" _My brother voted against the Divine Revelation twenty years ago, I understand why_ " she confessed, disillusioned, suffering, hideously angry, " _it_ ’ _s time for humanity to learn to take responsibility and not look for us as the sacrificial lamb. Don't you like winter? Well, now you’ll learn that it can be a hundred times more terrible without my help. You will see what it means to be abandoned by a Goddess._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi humans! Sorry for the delay! I would like to say I was "busy", but actually I just binge-watched "La casa de papel" on Netflix. In Spanish. Because dealing with one foreign langage wasn't enough, lol xD Anyway! In this chapter there's anothe big modern re-interpretation of the myth. I liked the idea that Demeter's wrath wasn't caused by Persephone's love story. I wanted her more open-minded and not so cruel to disrespect her daughter's choices. Also, this allows us to explore what were the human implications of the "Divine Revelation". Oh, and that thing about the Venice lagoon was written by my imagination in August 2019, I was REALLY SORRY when it happened in real life, in November. And also, a little disturbed. I don't know, maybe I'll change it, if someone finds it offensive.  
> Oh, and yes, Persie and Hades living together, yey! 
> 
> Just another translation note: when Persephone says "she feels good with him", in the original version she said "I love you". But. In italian we have two different ways to say "I love you" romantically and "I love you" affectionately (like, for family members, brothers, sisters, friends, and NOT official lovers). In this case, it was the second kind. And I didn't know how to translate it because for a romantic "I love you" is WAY TOO EARLY (there will be, but not today, eheh). Seriously, how can you not have misunderstandings in your relationships? Of course you invented the "I love you as a friend" thing, lol xD  
> Jokes aside, If you have any suggest, let me know! Thanks!


	24. The quiet wrath of a mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TODAY'S GLOSSARY  
> Πάντα ῥεῖ: panta rhei, which means "everything flaws". It's a philosophic concept by Heraclitus in which everything changes, in a cycle of eternal becoming.

The wrath of the Gods can be terrible.

Some deities are more vindictive than others. Some require human sacrifices, others preach only love. Some are crazy, they live with wars and suffering, like the Morrigan dancing on the bodies of the dead and feeding on their meat, or Ares using the skins of his enemies as cloaks. But whatever the nature of the individual, fierce or calm, if they decide to teach humanity a lesson, the whole world stops spinning. It had been so for the Great Flood, it had been so for the plagues, and it would’ve been so the winter in which Demeter, Goddess of the harvest, of agriculture, protector of fields and fecundity, had decided to deny her blessing to the mortals of the Mediterranean.

It would’ve been horrible, everyone knew. Humans knew it, Zeus knew it, Olympus knew it, all the other Gods of all the other Pantheon knew it, and even Hades and Persephone knew it, stuck there before that television, unable to say a word.

They observed the screen in silence, listening to the eminent opinions of a couple of professors invited on a talk show, a theologian and a biologist. Until the news gave way to other human issues and everything faded as if it had already been forgotten. Finally, Persephone turned to Hades, raised her head, looked at him in amazement and shock.

"I think she got really pissed this time." It was all she could say.

Hades, stoic, pursed his lips and nodded. It was hard to tell if he really cared. Certainly, he didn’t care that much about the well-being of mortals, but he was well aware of the danger of a deity breaking the balance, and perhaps he was annoyed that it concerned Persephone, if only indirectly.

Of course, however, they were all assumptions. He didn’t show anything and, indeed, he gave her a sideways glance, with a pale smile to indicate an imminent joke.

"Your vulgarity is always well descriptive, Divine."

"Sorry, but it fits better with the situation." She said without effort, just because she knew that he didn't like curse words, then she shook her head, "maybe it's better if I call her. Can I use your computer? I’d like to see her, I’ll try to calm her down."

"She won’t calm down. I know her."

"I know her too, and she never did something like this."

Hades raised his eyebrows, skeptical.

"She has already done something like this, long ago. It’s not out of malice, she wants to teach a lesson. She can’t change her mind now, she has now made a promise and she must keep it. If she didn't, she would make us all lose credibility, and she knows it."

Persephone sighed, worried about the terrible fate that was ahead and above all guilty that everything was born of her, even if it had never been her intention. Moreover, Hades, who saw the issue so pragmatically, didn’t help at all.

Persephone decided to ignore him, not to reply, because she knew he was right. But she still wanted to call her mother and then she borrowed his desk , sitting on the armchair, too big for her. She could almost swing her feet, touching the cold obsidian floor only with her toes. She felt like a child again.

She turned on the computer, started the communication and waited for Demeter to answer. She had to wait a bit and, in the meantime, Hades tried to step aside to get out of the webcam's visual field. Persephone didn’t allow him to escape: she grabbed him by the band of the chiton and pulled him back, standing beside her.

Just then, Demeter answered the call.

A tired figure appeared on the screen. A woman with gold-streaked hair gathered in a messy bun, holding a chalice of red wine and drinking from it in dry, angry sips. A mother disappointed by her mortal children, and so the only immortal daughter internally thanked Olympus not to be the object of that wrath. Maybe.

Persephone tried to smile, but the flowers on her head remained closed and frightened. Demeter didn’t comment and merely greeted with tired enthusiasm.

" _Kore, my love, how nice to see you_ " then she moved the wheat-colored irises on her brother, " _Hades_."

He seemed undecided for a moment on what greeting to choose, given that Demeter hadn’t given hints to her preference. Persephone thought that he would’ve opted for the formal Greek greeting, enunciated with neutral grace, and instead he relaxed his shoulders.

"Hi, Demi."

Her lips tightened, her eyes narrowed, she looked like an angry tiger, but did nothing to show more aggression. She simply drank from her glass of wine and pulled the veins in her neck.

" _You must have seen the news, I guess._ " She announced when she swallowed.

"Mamma" Persephone began, contrite, "I'm so sorry."

" _No, honey, no. Don’t be sorry. Mortals sometimes must be scolded, you have nothing to do with it._ "

But Persephone had the distinct feeling of having something to do with it.

She swallowed, tried not to get too carried away by the emotions, while the flowers in her hair betrayed her, withered and dyed dark. Hades had to notice, because he gave her a worried look. 

"Mom, please, you're... are you sure you want... that was just one stupid journalist, just one _._ "

But Demeter took another sip of wine, raising a single eyebrow and emitting a sarcastic sound with closed lips. At the same time, Hades sighed, he kept quiet but sighed. Persephone knew that both of them were thinking the same thing: how naive she was.

She felt tears pressing, but she pushed them back. As difficult as it was to stay between them, no matter how inexperienced they thought she was, she didn't have to cry, or they would’ve considered her even less worthy to be heard.

" _Honey, she wasn’t_ one _journalist_ " Demeter explained, " _she’s not the first to raise these questions since we revealed ourselves. Humanity is falling into the mistake of blaming us for everything, and this must end._ "

"I know, but…"

" _No but, Kore_ " and as she spoke, so pragmatic and hard, she sounded like her brother, " _so I decided, so it will be. It will be the hardest winter that this spit of world has ever seen. Nothing will grow, no children will be born, cattle will become sterile like the ground. And you can bet that in comparison the salt on Carthage will seem like a party_."

Persephone was deeply disturbed by that so severely, almost cruel way to speak. She had never heard it in her mother. She knew that Demeter was an irascible Goddess, but she had always been so well liked by humanity, and she was always so willing to share her secrets... now, instead, she seemed more terrible than the Inexorable. She could certainly do much more harm.

Only then Hades intervened. He put his hand on the back of the chair and rubbed his hairless chin.

"Many humans will die."

" _Does it upset you?_ "

Demeter looked at him steadily across the screen and seemed almost to be able to get out of it with the sole force of resentment. Hades, sensing that she was still very susceptible, incredibly stepped back: he raised a hand, calm and disinterested.

"These are you Mysteries, sister, I can’t tell you what to do."

" _Good_."

"But Zeus won’t be happy and you’re in his jurisdiction." Hades insisted, cold.

Equally cold was Demeter's answer, frowning and with a look more golden and angry than ever:

" _You don’t need to remind me this,_ Aidoneus _, since it’s_ your _fault if I’m operating in this jurisdiction._ "

They exchanged a fiery look, gold irises in silver irises, and nothing more was said. They dismissed the conversation and Demeter returned to drinking in tiny sips from her glass.

Persephone was even more upset than before. She felt like she didn't understand anything about what was happening around her, especially when she was between two Cronids hating each other. And then the whole matter of the mortals screaming her name and blaming her for their misfortunes, perhaps provoking the wrath of Zeus… she didn’t know what to do, she didn’t even know how to ask the advice of the major Gods she had before her eyes because they seemed so far away from her way of thinking... all of this, in the end, fell on her shoulders as the sky on the back of Atlas.

She swallowed, tried not to think about all the responsibility that was pouring on her and the fact that neither Hades nor Demeter seemed to care. They didn't even realize it. Stupid old Gods, used to doing everything by themselves, without taking into account the existence of the minor ones.

And so, foolishly, she felt like crying. She felt guilty for everything. For leaving, for having thought that decorating the Elysian Fields was enough to make the world a better place, for having abandoned her mother, for having abandoned humanity, for Caterina who would’ve suffered, for the mortals who would’ve crowded the Underworld if Demeter hadn't calmed down. And all those disasters didn’t bear the name of Hades, nor even that of Demeter. They bore the name of Proserpina, her name. It was all really... too much.

She cried, then, but tried not to show it. She turned her head a little, wiped her first tears. She closed her eyelids and tried to give herself an attitude, but now it was done. Stupid, stupid feelings. She wanted to be Cronid too.

Unfortunately, Hades noticed it first. He couldn’t fail to notice, because out of all the certainties he could see, there were also Persephone's moods, and he couldn’t ignore them even if he wanted to. The young Goddess, therefore, prepared to receive pity, if not from him, from her mother. Instead, it didn’t happen: she felt a big hand on the shoulder and felt Hades lowering himself on one knee. He turned the armchair and Persephone found herself in front of him. Serious, tranquil.

Peaceful.

"Kore, why are you crying?" He sounded amazed.

" _Honey?_ ”Her mother worried on the screen, leaning the glass and suddenly returning to her loving attitude.

Persephone shook her head, lowered her chin, and tried to hide her face behind the hair on her shoulder, or behind the peplum fabric. The flowers on her head, all dead.

"It's... it's all my fault... they hate me..."

" _No! No, Kore, my love! Hey, listen to me, I didn't want to upset you!_ "

But Persephone didn’t look either at the screen or at Hades, kneeling in front of her. She brought her eyes to the side, towards the TV where the news still flowed. Her eyes had filled with heavy tears of guilt. She was screwing up the world only two months after her debut. She wasn't ready to do anything, she just wanted to go back and pretend to be a mortal again.

Demeter expressed some other attempt at consolation, but Persephone was lost in her commiseration and didn’t even heard her. Then, all of a sudden, Hades, resting a cold hand on her cheek and making her turn towards him, applying that delicate strength that was his signature.

"Look at me, Persephone."

So authoritative and yet so affectionate, in his way of imposing tranquility. Persephone couldn’t help but obey, also because she didn’t want to throw a tantrum either before him or in front of her mother.

Just when she looked into his eyes, as the first time, certainty. Certainty of peace, of inevitability, of destiny. Looking at him was like having a window on everything.

"Kore" he breathed out her name with such serenity that the world could’ve stopped, inert, in its orbit around the sun, "Kore, look at me. I work too much, I don't eat, I don't sleep, maybe I don't give enough attention to my woman, and in any case it's not enough for mortals. They don't pray to me. They don't say my name. In three hundred thousand years they have sacrificed to me a dozen bulls at most, turning their heads back for fear that I might appear and cut their throats. Every time there is an earthquake or a volcanic eruption, or any other disaster, it's automatically my fault. They accused me of kidnapping you because I gave you a ride home. If I were to offend every time they took my name in vain, I would’ve already exterminated humanity by now."

That last remark made her grin, sniffling. Strangely, Persephone noticed that Demeter had the same reaction on the other side of the screen. Even Hades spread a light, heartened smile.

"You don't have to feel so bad about it, little girl" the God replied, wiping a tear with his thumb, "now that we have revealed ourselves, they blame us even more, it will be like this forever. Demi is right to put them back in line, but it’s her business. She’s an ancient Goddess, she knows how to deal with them, and if I know her, she will never do more harm than the minimum necessary."

Demeter, intruding, began to nod frantically.

" _Of course, honey, it's temporary. Don’t be afraid. Sometimes parents have to scold their children, but it’s for their own good. The sooner humans will understand the true cause of their problems, the sooner they’ll solve them_."

"See?" Hades resumed, nodding, "She’s a wise Goddess."

Persephone stopped crying and realized only at that moment, having both in front of herself, that Hades and Demeter for the very first time were agreeing on something. It didn't seem real. She felt loved by two equal flows, which no longer tried to climb over one another.

She put her hand to her lips, not quite sure that they understood how grateful she was that they were getting along for her.

"So, you say I can stay here? I mean... I know I should be the Spring on the surface, but there was nothing to do, I felt useless and... I didn't want to run away, I just wanted to find my path."

She was worrying again and the two Cronids noticed it. They sighed. Demeter, from the screen, sat more comfortable in her chair and centered herself in the frame. She spoke with tremendous honesty.

" _Honey, listen to me very well. I don't understand your tastes at all and I'll never understand why you wanted to go down there, but it's your choice. I know I'm a pain in the ass_ " she laughed, causing a laugh in everyone else, " _I know I'm protective, but now you're there, that's fine. If that's what you like, then just do it. You're good, I know you are._ "

"She is" Hades confirmed, calm, honest, and like all his compliments it didn’t sound such, it seemed only a fact, "She’s good in tribunal, but I don’t say it often. I apologize."

Demeter snapped a flat, exasperated look with half-closed eyelids.

" _Yes, Kore, I know my brother isn’t generous with compliments. But if it can be of any consolation, know that he would’ve already kicked you out, if he didn't like how you work._ "

Persephone laughed, forgetting all her worries, comforted by something that, for the first time, looked like a _real_ family. In the meantime, Hades must have felt jokingly hurt from that last statement of Demeter, because he stood up and took back his own inexorability. He put his hair back and crossed his arms. His eyes narrowed toward his sister.

"I'm demanding, Demi. This is how I maintain efficiency."

" _Maybe that's why mortals hate you, have you ever thought about it?_ "

"You're also finding imaginative ways to make them hate you, so it's a family flaw."

They were back to bickering, but in a completely different way than before. They were staring at each other, trying not to laugh, just like two spiteful brothers, much younger than their real age.

Persephone laughed and shook her head.

"All right, children, it’s enough for today" she broke in, regaining her personality, "And well... thank you. To both of you. Sorry if I'm so insecure, but... in this period everything is so… confusing."

But Demeter shook her head, with the movement a little blurred because of the problems of internet connection in the underground.

" _Kore, don't worry: the Wheel will turn._ _Πάντα_ _ῥεῖ_ _._ "

Persephone nodded tightly, cuddling a lock of hair. She wanted to believe it. She trusted Demeter: she was still her mother and in her role she had been excellent. Protective, yes, but excellent. If she was like that with mortals, perhaps she knew what she was doing. After all, she had known them for much longer.

The young Goddess shot a glance at Hades and saw him looking back, neutral, calm. Then she went back to looking at the screen and thought of telling some of the news.

"I'm dealing with a complex case, you know, Mom?"

" _Oh yes?_ "

Demeter pretended to be interested. Indeed, perhaps she was. Not in the case itself, but in what her daughter had to say.

"Yeah. And Hades allowed me to grow some plants in the Elysian Fields, I'd like you to see them someday. I also made a cherry tree forest."

" _Well done, honey. Surely now those fields seem more real._ "

Hades didn’t respond to the provocation, perhaps because he was the first to think that the Elysium was too basic. So, he just brought his eyes to the ground and frowned a little on the hump of his aquiline nose, annoyed but unable to deny.

Then, suddenly, a question from Demeter a little too frank:

" _Kore, is he treating you well?_ "

Persephone was dumbfounded. With the pressure of the moment, she hadn’t even noticed that some gesture of Hades towards her, in the presence of Demeter, betrayed how much they had become intimate. Not to mention the fact that seeing them together at the palace on Sunday morning left no doubt that they were together from the night before.

For a moment Persephone was afraid, but then, analyzing her mother's expressiveness, she didn’t find any sort of inquisitorial accusation. It was a sincere question. So, honestly she replied:

"Yes, he treats me very well. He always makes sure I have everything I need and he's kind. Really."

Demeter closed her eyelids, decorated with makeup and mascara, and nodded gravely.

" _All right. Then I'm happy for you._ "

At that moment, with those very simple words, Demeter proved she knew everything. Perhaps she had always known that it would’ve ended that way, since Hades had sworn on the Styx, or even since the first conference. She had tried to stop it, but Persephone knew that she had done it out of love, and fear that she could be used or deluded by an older man, more powerful and more dangerous. But she wasn’t ruthless and wouldn’t have chosen to make her unhappy, preventing her from living her life. She had seen the certainty of happiness in the eyes of Persephone, perhaps she had also seen love in those of Hades. And she had changed her mind. 

Hades and Demeter stared at each other for a moment: they always seemed to be peering into each other's thoughts. In the end, they nodded, raising their chins, saying nothing, but Persephone knew that they had put an end to their disagreement. From that moment on, Demeter had given her definitive consent to the role of Persephone in the Underworld.

The young Goddess felt relieved as she hadn’t been since she had known Hades. She had always been afraid that between her mother and him things would’ve been always difficult, and instead there they were, talking to each other, joking, approving, in a scenario that only a few months before would’ve seemed unimaginable. And Persephone felt grateful, yes, but also a bit proud, because after all the merit was also hers, of her empathy: she had got them to talk and finally her need to be supported, even passive and involuntary, had led them together.

She had reconciled two irreconcilable Cronids. It seemed to her the biggest success of her life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was about time Hades and Demeter ridescovered some brotherly love, wasn't it?  
> Don't worry, we will know what happened between them, just wait for it!  
> Bye bye and stay safe! *.*


	25. A mint plant

In Erebus everything changes, remaining the same.

It was a strange feeling, but Persephone was starting to accept it. There was never a day similar to another: at each passing hour, some problems closed and others opened up; souls followed one another, each with its own particular case. At the same time, however, souls were souls nevertheless, and after having seen hundreds of them their cases began to resemble each other; and even their problems, though different, always had the usual solutions.

The same was for Hades: he too was changing, while remaining the same. He was immutable, of course, in the hearings he was the usual Inexorable, but in private he was really working outside his comfort zone to meet Persephone’s needs, and she was grateful for that.

He had welcomed her in his quarters with all due respect. He had helped her bring her things, he had granted her one of the small rooms as a private office. He had hired nymphs as her personal maids; something that made Persephone a little uncomfortable, since she wasn’t used to making other people work for own comforts.

But above all, Hades was doing everything possible on a personal level, not just material, to get closer to her everyday life. He took part in the meals with her, for example: he tried even if he didn't find it useful, just to be with her and not leave her alone. Again, he had agreed to try to sleep every night, even if he could do it just for a few hours and always after a massive dosage of sex. He was trying to put his work aside a little to dedicate himself more and more to her, during the evenings and weekends. And he was also doing his best to get closer to the modern and mortal interests of the Goddess: he seemed to appreciate them without fully understanding them. Persephone read him books aloud, or showed him her favorite movies. Once, lying in bed, they had watched _Young Frankenstein_ : Hades hadn’t grasped all the irony, but he had laughed anyway because Persephone was laughing.

He was working, in short. Since she had moved, he seemed to have changed his solid list of the priorities, and Persephone was over the top. He tried to endure the changes so as not to make her feel lonely, because he knew that she was enduring changes too, and the most serious one was to live in that infinite palace.

It wasn't so idyllic, not really.

It was a beautiful place, but the magnificence of such a large house is overrated. There were all the comforts, but there was never privacy: the court was packed with guests and workers, who lived there with all their families. There was always a great deal of coming and going, even in the King's private quarters: maids passing by to clean, to help Persephone choose clothes, to bring food; and then the valets and members of Hades' entourage, endless, each with a different function, from the more personal advisors who assisted him in any decision, to the secretaries running his schedules.

It was certainly a whole new lifestyle for Persephone. As Hades was struggling to change his habits to sleep every night, so she could hardly call home a place like that. It was so large and crowded that it didn't seem to be a place to rest; on the contrary, it was like being always at work.

The more days passed, however, the more things changed, remaining the same. The new routine began to be bearable for both. Weeks came to an end, the first trimester phase ended, and finally the winter holidays arrived.

There were no ceremonies, to tell the truth. Hades didn’t follow the earthly annual notation, except to name the dates, and certainly didn’t honor the feasts of another God, reason why Persephone expected nothing for Christmas, and nothing she received. But in the rest of the world the year changed. And with the month of January came the first time when Persephone ordered a maid to prepare her peplum without feeling guilty, and even the first time Hades woke up in the morning and said: " _I'm hungry_."

The thing Persephone liked best at that time was being in Hades' office while he worked. She liked it so much that she almost didn't care when he lingered in front of the computer, because even just sitting there doing totally different things was relaxing.

Her favorite place was an armchair with a small table, in an austere corner of the large, dark room. She usually sat there in the evening. After the hearings in the afternoon, in fact, they went to that office, Hades changed his clothes to a modern outfit, and then went to his desk to close the last day's tasks. Persephone, on the other hand, crouched in that armchair, often wrapping herself in a peplum or a blanket. She ordered a mint tea and relaxed reading a book, or checking notifications on her phone. She had sometimes tried to offer to work with him, feeling guilty for being idle, even if her working hours had officially ended; but Hades had always reacted by smiling and telling her to relax, because she was already helping him with the company.

This was the context in which the two were, when the static mutability of Erebus gave one of its most lethal throws of dice. Because yes, one could also establish a routine with the illusion of having digested and accepted it in the body; but when working closely with death one must also expect sudden changes.

The sudden change came that winter evening in the form of a phone call, but it didn't show up immediately.

No. At first it left the Gods quiet, one to bask in work, the other in mint tea for about an hour. Then, providence made someone knock at the huge double door, which separated them from the rest of the noisy court.

Persephone didn’t immediately worried, she was now accustomed to the workers coming and going. She took it for granted that it was a valet and didn’t even raise her nose from the book she was reading at the time: _The silence of the lambs._ She had reached the point where Lecter was speaking of that _nice Chianti_ and didn’t want to be distracted.

She only heard Hades absently giving permission to enter. And, when one of the chiseled wooden doors opened in a crack, entered a figure that was not a valet.

No, it was a woman. Or rather, a river nymph, a naiad. Tall, slim. Her eyes looked like dewdrops. She dragged her light clothes and her snow-colored hair behind her as if she were floating in water. Graceful, she moved towards the desk of an indifferent Hades, almost levitating on the floor. She left some papers in the desk organizer, then spoke in a shy and sensual voice at the same time:

"My Lord, there is a call for you from Anubis."

Hades, who was stoic working at the computer, didn't even waste time to look at her face. He stayed with his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on the screen, which, illuminated by artificial light, seemed a little less dark than usual.

"Um."

He wasn’t talkative that night. There was no particular reason, he wasn’t in a bad mood. By now Persephone knew him enough to know that, at times, he arrived at the end of the day without any remaining loquacity.

"Would you like to have him on line one?" Asked the naiad, pink lips and clear, uniform skin.

As usual, Hades took a little too long to answer, but eventually he succeeded:

"Tell him I'm busy, I'll call him. Thank you."

The naiad only nodded just once, eyes closed. She resembled a Japanese woman in her delicate bow, framed by the white dress and the smooth hair floating around. Finally, as if pushed away by a breeze, she went out and closed the door.

Persephone, who had watched the scene, narrowed her eyes and looked at Hades, motionless in his stoic concentration on work.

"Your majesty, it seems you have impressed someone." She insinuated, playful and serious in equal measure, provoking him. She knew he was annoyed, but she couldn't help himself.

"I didn't do anything." He defended himself blandly, inattentively, with his eyes on the screen.

"Who is she? A new secretary?"

"Mm."

"Should it be a yes?"

"Yes, she’s a secretary. She’s not new. Her name’s Mentha."

Well, Persephone had never seen her, or she would’ve remembered.

"Have you kept her in the drawer all this time?"

"She was in Valhalla for cultural exchange."

The Goddess frowned, stubborn, annoyed that he didn't want to break away from that damn computer even for a second. She straightened up in the armchair and put the book upside down on the table. She covered herself more with the band of the green forest peplum she was wearing and stared at Hades, trying to convey discomfort to him.

Se didn't make it. It was a bad idea, in fact, because Hades was a really stubborn being: competing passively-aggressively with him was like doing it against a wall. He would never have moved.

Persephone rolled her eyes and decided to externalize the problem directly, otherwise she would’ve been there staring at him for ages.

"She likes you, Hades. Have you noticed?"

Hades frowned and only then Persephone knew he was listening to her. But anyway he didn't do much else: his lips curved down, he assumed an even more indifferent expression.

"Good. Usually people don't like me."

Persephone almost laughed, but tried to maintain her seriousness.

"I could be jealous." She suggested.

"Are you?"

That sounded like a provocation, in truth. As if, thanks to his power, he was sure of receiving a negative answer. And indeed Persephone didn’t commit herself to lie, not even for fun, because she had learned that it was useless.

"No, I'm not jealous."

"So, what are we talking about? My loyalty to you is matched only by that which I have for this kingdom, Divine Persephone. Don’t get lost in these mortal insecurities. Or, Hera’s insecurities, if you prefer."

Persephone settled back in her chair, sighing. She crossed her legs and curled a strand of frizzy hair around a finger. She had never doubted a second of Hades' loyalty, but for many years she had doubted her own beauty. Hers was not jealousy, in fact. It was envy.

She tried to insist:

"I'm not jealous, it's just... she's very beautiful. And very thin."

"She’s a naiad. They’re all thin."

He said it with his usual, disinterested, obvious calmness. As if the problem didn't concern him, on the contrary, as if it didn't even exist. His divine pragmatism was too technical for him to consider the problems of feminine self-esteem.

Persephone decided to let it go, annoyed. She wasn’t angry, it was too difficult to be in front of the serenity that the Inexorable transmitted in uninterrupted flow. But she was a little disappointed that Hades behaved as if Persephone, as Goddess, should never envy anything. According to him she always had to feel superior to others, in everything. The truth was that, no matter how daring she was when they were alone, she had never abandoned the human fear of not being enough, especially on a physical level. Hades was sculpted, very tall, she felt like a hobbit in comparison.

But the King of the dead knew how to amaze, and he proved it: just as Persephone was evaluating whether to go back to reading, his voice arrived, calm, still far from a real interest but still precise as a scalpel.

"You don't need to lose weight, Kore."

Persephone was dumbfounded, with wide eyes. She went straight back to the chair, looked at him hopefully and at the same time worried. She wondered how he had managed to go so far in detail, if he had even given the idea of not having understood the problem in the first place.

"Ah, then you understand female insecurities."

"I do. I also try not to encourage them."

Still all the attention on the job, still staring at the computer as a pointy dog, yet with a corner of the mouth slightly raised in a sarcastic grin.

"Well, I feel challenged. To make me feel better, it would be enough to tell me that you like me, your majesty. Just a little advice."

"If I didn't like you, I would’ve asked you to let me work by now."

"Can't you just make me a compliment?"

But the more Hades felt challenged, the more he became stubborn. No matter the subject: she could also have asked him the most stupid and obvious question in the world, such as asking what time it was, but if she did so with a defiant tone he wouldn’t have answered. He did it on purpose. The Cronids really didn’t like to receive orders, not even bland ones. For Hades it was _obvious_ that he liked Persephone, so he didn't see the usefulness of repeating it.

Here, that was something that Persephone would never have accepted, and only with time she realized the real reason: because she herself was equally stubborn. She saw herself in Hades' attitude and was annoyed. But every couple has its flaws. That was certainly theirs and they couldn't do much about it, even though they were willing to come together in everything else.

Fortunately, at least, one of the two occasionally gave in for the sake of a quiet life. That time it was Hades.

Persephone had let it go and, grabbing her book, had sat back in the chair. And instead, when she no longer hoped for it, she felt a cold hand on the back of her neck.

She gasped in surprise, but didn’t turn her head. She didn't know yet how Hades could be so silent, but she didn't want to look at him and pretended to be still annoyed. Actually, she was just satisfied that she had managed to rip his butt off the chair.

That touch immediately became two hands on both sides of the neck. The tapered and gnarled fingers of the God ran over her delicate skin. They came to surround her cheeks, and then to step back a little, brushing her hair and touching the lobes and the earrings.

Persephone narrowed her eyes, prey to that coldly passionate touch.

"Women" the God complained, behind her, "as mysterious as the Styx, as beautiful as the Lethe, as terrible as the Cocytus."

He continued in his slow seduction, because in that he was good and he knew he was. He caressed her lobes again, then spread his fingers and sank into the brown curls, letting them fall over her back. He lowered himself, Persephone felt him breathing in the scent of her flowers.

Then, a few words, directly into her ear.

"It hurts me that you have doubts about your beauty, Divine, or about my worshiping it."

The Goddess swallowed with her eyes closed, seized by that inexorable touch, by the cold penetrating her brain.

"It's just... sometimes it's nice to hear it."

"Aren't my attentions enough?"

Well, they were enough, yes, now that he was _kindly_ granting them. Not when he was sitting at his desk immersed in his divine thoughts. She took care to make him understand that.

"You're just giving me attentions because I busted your balls enough."

Still a defiant tone, and she had done it on purpose, she couldn’t deny it. She had done it because she was feeling the carnal passion grow: to be teased in those moments of lust ignited him at least as much as it annoyed him. In fact, Persephone couldn’t help but smile, feeling his touch become heavier, irritated.

"I give you attentions every night, little girl."

"But you still talk too little."

"I don't need to talk."

When he said it, Persephone slipped off. She withdrew from his seduction, stood up and left him there with his hands midair. Now a few steps away, she looked at him and saw him grim, smiling maliciously, predatory. He was feeling challenged this time, because the Goddess had distracted him during work, and now was escaping.

"Come here."

It was an order. As already mentioned, Persephone liked to receive an order only to refuse to respect them. And she knew, deep down, that Hades liked to give them to feel disobeyed. An even trade.

"I really don't think I'll come there, my King. You don't deserve me."

" _Come here_."

"It’s not going to be more effective just because you repeat it with a grimmer look."

She saw Hades darken even more and his grin widen. The short curls fell before his forehead and the shadows contrasted on his pale skin, giving him a predatory attitude.

He put his hand on the back of the chair where Persephone had been sitting. He began to walk around it with studied slowness and fake coolness. With the other hand, instead, he unfastened only one button of his shirt, freeing his neck. As if he were preparing to run.

The idea gave her a thrill of expectation.

"You come here, little girl, or I'll take you. Choose wisely."

Persephone put her hand over her mouth, hiding laughter and trying to play the game. She took a step back and shook her head, letting him know he would’ve had to chase her. Because she liked it, yes. As much as him.

Only for a moment they remained still, like deer and wolf staring at each other before running.

And they started.

Persephone made the first move. She sprinted forward, tried to proceed to the rest of the room because she was already back to the wall. She had to pass by him, but she was quick enough to avoid his grip. Laughing, she went around the desk. But he knew it would’ve been a brief escape: she was more agile, but they were in a closed environment, which Hades spaced very well with his long legs. The only way to really run away would be escape from the office, but Persephone thought it wasn’t a good idea, with regard to the other workers and residents of the court: they were still not ready to see the King run after a minor Goddess following his erection like a dowser. Those things happened on Olympus, not there.

He reached her almost immediately, in fact. Persephone wasn’t disappointed because she knew she had granted it, after all. He grabbed her around her waist, near the desk, and pinned her, holding her from behind. He didn’t even need to use his strength for real, even if Persephone was trying to win against his arm to slip away.

He didn't even allow her to hope for a possible escape. Instead, he held her and made her bend over the desk. He used a kind of violent gallantry and he never hurt her, not even by mistake. He merely used his strength passively, making her feel it but never imposing it.

Persephone, laughing a little with excitement, tried to slide sideways and leave, but nothing. Hades put his hand right in the middle of her back and held her down, her breasts pressed against the glass and separated only by the peplos, which was already untying. In front of her, the pen holder with the two daffodils, the white one and the purple one. It made her smile.

The God bent over her and Persephone felt his body press everywhere, imprisoning her against the desk.

"I like you when you run away." He almost growled it and the Goddess felt a contraction in her private parts.

"Oh, _now_ you say you like me?"

She heard him laugh, but with gestures he never became more tolerant. He continued to hold her down, pressed against the glass, and Persephone was almost afraid that it might break under their weight. She stood on tiptoe, uncomfortable on that too-high desk.

Then, without warning, he pushed push, and his erection was pressing on her through their clothes.

"You shouldn't depend on compliments. My appreciation should be _evident_."

"Gods get boners for anything, it’s not a proof!"

But this time Hades didn't even bother to reply, as he did when he thought the debate was too low compared to his high standards. On the contrary, he remained silent and lifted her peplum’s skirt.

Under the peplum, Persephone had nothing. Which must have pleased him, because she heard him release a sigh of approval. Immediately after, his fingers all along her womanhood. Persephone couldn’t hold back a jolt.

He traced the whole length several times, giving her cold bursts of pleasure. It didn't take long for his fingers to get wet. As soon as it happened, he went back to bend over her, this time holding his hand in front of them and offering it, so that she could admire it and smell it.

"See, not even I need you to say anything. Your appreciation is _evident_ as well."

Persephone gasped. She would have liked to make a cruel joke, to suggest that he had slept with the naiad, and emphasize how _wet_ a _river nymph_ might get; but she didn’t succeed, because her mind was already elsewhere, distracted by Hades pressing and immobilizing her with his arms behind her back.

She gritted her teeth, amused and still trying to make things difficult for him. She tried to free herself when she heard the rattle of the unfastened belt. She tried to raise her back when she felt the warmth of his bare skin. But Hades didn’t abandon his placid, slow but powerful authority, like the earth's crust moving unstoppably, even slowly and slightly. He kept her still, so he didn't allow her to win not even an inch.

When he penetrated her, he made it slow, but without any kind of pleasantry. He pushed into her and Persephone emitted a little cry, collapsing forward. She rested her chin on the desk, saw her breath condense on the glass.

Hades didn't move immediately. He remained still. He reached for her, this time more gently, and Persephone felt his shirt press on her shoulders. He put his face beside her, stretched his fingers and moved the curls behind her ear.

Persephone looked at him and smiled, trying to adapt to that delicious and invasive feeling. She smiled to reassure him, to tell him that it was fine. Although it had been months, he was always afraid of hurting her, and it had happened sometimes, going too deep. But he didn't do it on purpose, he was delicate and always made sure she was okay. It was a kindness that always filled her with love, and that even on that occasion made her blush with sweetness.

Hades closed his clear eyelids, seeing that his companion was okay. Relaxed as much as and more than her, he remained beside her for a moment.

"You're beautiful." He finally murmured, seriously.

Persephone knew that he really meant it, and after all she was glad that he had given her that little reassurance. Futile, perhaps, childish to his ears, but to the Goddess every now and then needed those little things. Then she smiled again, while Hades tried just a couple of movements, sinking into her, never in a hurry.

Persephone groaned again, stretched all her muscles. And, immediately, his thumb closing her lips. Grinning, he came closer, until their faces were on each other, his nose brushing her cheek.

"Sh, Kore, we are in the office" he whispered, amused, "keep quiet, if you don't want even Scylla and Charybdis to hear you."

Persephone chuckled and barely raised her chin, giving him a kiss that warmed his lips. A kiss that however lasted too little, because he withdrew almost immediately. Leaving her there, he straightened up. The Goddess felt his icy hands moving the fabric of her dress to half her back, and finally grabbing the bare skin of her prosperous hips. She knew that, from then on, he wouldn’t have hold back.

How long did it last?

Persephone didn’t know. So much, yet too little, like all things interrupted midway. Because yes, they interrupted them: a delicate knock on the door of the office, and Hades immediately stopped.

The Goddess exhaled annoyed, feeling the pleasure slip away all at once. She raised herself on his desk, placing her palms on the glass, her hair a bit messy and her muscles all aching. Turning around, she noticed that Hades wasn’t much better: short of breath, his tie unfastened and his shirt half-open, his abdominals peeking out from behind the thin fabric.

"What is it?" He barked in the direction of the door.

His unusually impulsive way of expressing himself, as well as making Persephone almost laugh, had to alarm those on the other side, because no one dared open the door. All that emerged was a timid and muffled voice.

"My Lord, it’s Anubis. He keeps calling."

It was the naiad, Mentha. Persephone narrowed her eyes. She struggled to turn towards the God, still blocked by his penetration. She didn’t comment in words, but transmitted her message with her eyes only. She said: _send her away or I’ll turn her into a plant and I’ll put her in my herbal tea._

Hades had to understand, if not the exact threat, her annoyance. He blinked a couple of times, exasperated. He ran a hand over his forehead, brushing back his hair and the thin veil of sweat on his alabaster skin.

"Repeat him that I'm busy and I'll call back."

"Okay, but..."

"Do it" he ordered, dryly, "and if he keeps calling, you have the authorization not to answer. Actually, go home, take an evening off. "

"Thank you, your Majesty. Sorry, your Majesty."

Finally, the naiad gave up. She said nothing more and they knew she was gone. Persephone felt sorry for her for a moment, but Hades started pushing again, wrapping her in a fiery embrace, holding her breasts still imprisoned in the peplum.

He was convinced not to lose the rhythm. But unfortunately for him that night he wasn’t the only one convinced of something.

Not even a whole a minute passed, in fact, that the great office of the King, very little furnished and abode of appalling echoes, was invaded by the amplified ringtone of a mobile phone.

It was that of Hades, who was now vibrating on the glass of his desk: Persephone felt its vibration on her, right into her brain and bones. Annoying, she wanted to take it and knock it out the window. But on the display there was Anubis and therefore Hades was forced to stop again.

His head fell forward. He placed both hands on the desk, frustrated.

Persephone pursed her lips. She tried to turn around, while the ringtone still seriously tested their patience.

"For Olympus, he's insistent!" She joked.

"He's a dog."

Hades bowed his head, tired, now with a metallic expression.

"Perhaps it’s better if you answer. It could be important."

"I bet the bident it’s not."

He pursed his lips, looked at the phone that showed no sign of stopping ringing. Finally, the apprehensive part of him won his moral: he rolled his eyes and decided to answer.

He slipped out of her, while the Goddess straightened and rested her tired muscles. He straightened up a bit and pulled up his trousers, as if for him even talking on the phone required a certain dignity. Finally, with two quick movements of the fingers on the display, he answered the call and also put on speaker, a gesture that Persephone found nice: he trusted to have her around and he always shared everything, every document, every call for pleasure or work. As if he wanted to gradually admit her to all his Mysteries.

"Anubis" began Hades, dry, without even saying hello, "I said to tell you I'm busy, am I wrong?"

Immediately, a thunderous laugh on the other side of the receiver, engaging and sincere to the point of making it impossible to remain irritated towards the Egyptian God.

" _Hades!_ " He exclaimed happily, with his exotic and snarling accent, " _My friend, when are you_ not _busy?_ "

Hades pursed his lips, replied with flat sarcasm:

"This time I'm _busier_."

And something Anubis had to grasp because he was silent for a moment. An incredibly long moment, which almost made them think the line had gone dead.

But no, the line was okay, and in fact an exclamation came soon after:

" _Oh, Nile, did I interrupt something?_ "

"I'm afraid so."

" _Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't want to ruin your decennial fuck_."

A laugh escaped from Persephone’s lips, which she contained covering them with her hands. Hades, much less amused, tried to patch up the situation, which he evidently didn't think fit to his companion's ears.

"Anubis" he rebuked sternly, in the same tone that he used with Cerberus, "behave, you're on speaker. There's Persephone here."

" _Persephone? Then it's serious! Hi, Persie!"_

Anubis was crazy, always had been. Exuberant as a dog, rigorous as a wolf, nosy as a jackal. Persephone found him adorable and likeable, but she couldn’t explain at all how he could be a friend of Hades. Well... she couldn’t even explain how she could be his partner, actually. Perhaps it was only because the Inexorable chased after the most cheerful souls in order to win joy for himself.

Persephone answered the greeting with her own enthusiasm, even though she didn't know Anubis that well. She was thankful that, at least with him, putting the formalisms aside had been so easy.

" _Guys, really sorry, I couldn’t imagine!_ " The jackal resumed, in an animally Arab voice, " _Hades, you’ll understand me, I never thought I would find you_ so busy _during office hours. She’s ruining you, eh?_ "

Only then Hades indulged in a shy and very tight smile. But he didn't let it emerge in his tone of voice, because he spoke as sternly as before:

"Can you get to the point, kindly?"

" _Oh yes, yes. I’ll be brief, I swear, don't waste time detaching yourself._ "

"Unfortunately, it’s already late for that, so I wish you have something important to say."

His canine laughter on the other side, deep and hissing, as if he were grinding his jaws.

" _I just wanted to invite you out of your hole, my friend. I’ll be in my temple in Luxor until March. You need to get some sun. And then we could discuss the Air Bus case in person and fix it the old way, at a banquet._ "

Persephone frowned, wondering what the _Air Bus case_ was. She was about to ask, but Hades preceded her in the explanation:

"I and Anubis are having some jurisdiction problems. A plane of pilgrim pantheists has crashed on the maritime border and we are evaluating how to sort their souls."

"Oh, it's terrible..."

And she really meant it, because the most human part of her, the one who had grown up among mortals, saw it as the disaster that it really was. But Anubis, like any God of the Underworld, was completely unaware of the drama of death, so he took it as a joke.

" _Oh, Persie, yes, a tragedy!_ " He exclaimed, in the tone of someone who has just received a nice present, " _Of course those souls are mine, but your man is a stubborn one and has been holding me with a short leash for months._ "

The Goddess couldn’t hide being amused, on the contrary, her cheeks and stomach started to hurt. She loved Anubis’ black humor. It was a unique case among the Gods. He resembled Caterina, sometimes.

"I know he’s stubborn" the Goddess played the game, "but I'll try to let him vent."

" _Divine, thank you. One day lying with the Inexorable will be recognized as the sacrifice for the common good that it actually is._ "

By now they were monopolizing the conversation, laughing together, both having fun in front of an impassive Hades, who almost looked like a third wheel. His eyes now passed from Persephone to the telephone and vice versa.

"It’ll take way more than a little sex to make me give up a whole plane of souls, so you can abandon your resolutions."

" _If you leave me the mortals, I 'll leave you my concubines for a whole month! The cats, Hades! The cats!_ "

"No."

" _I bet_ _Persephone would like them._ "

There was a small scuffle, all three overlapping to talk and tease each other. But Hades, in the most powerful tone, was the one who won it:

"Enough now. Anubis, back to the matter, please."

" _All right, all right. So, will you come or not? You’re both invited, when you prefer._ "

Persephone widened her eyes, straightened up and shot an enthusiastic look at Hades, making him understand that she would’ve loved to go. She had never seen Egypt, indeed, she had never seen the abodes of any of the Gods of the other Pantheons.

Hades had to notice her expression, because he nodded, still with messy hair and clothes.

"Yes, all right, we can come there a few days."

" _Very good! Then decide the dates and let me know. Now I let you go back to your duties._ "

"How kind."

But Anubis didn’t catch his friend's sarcasm. Before concluding the call, instead, he sounded like he had just remembered something important.

" _Oh, Persephone!_ "

"Yeah?"

" _I’d love if you wanted to bring that blondie, too._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks!  
> Eheh, I know I made you freeze with that title xD But with me you don't need to worry: I really HATE love triangles and cheatings, so I'd die before writing something like that xD I just wanted to add a Minthe/Mentha reference, that's all. And yes, there will be Leuce as well! But she will be in a whole different context (and yes, she's an official concubine), so wait for it.   
> Oh, and ANUBIS! I really couldn't wait to reach this part, because I'm in love with his character and the next three chapters will take place in Egypt, YEY! And about this, I have a big announcement! I wrote a spin-off story about him and Caterina, shorter than this book, nine chapters. I'd love to translate it at the end of this story, would you be interested?  
> Anyways, thank you for reading and commenting as usual. Love you all! *.*


	26. Luxor

Bringing _that blondie_ , also known as Caterina, wasn’t as easy as one might think. Persephone didn’t know if it was a good idea. First of all, she wasn't so sure Cate wanted to. But even before asking her there were other problems: what about the Mysteries? Could she have listened to the Gods debates? Could she have had access to the same rooms? Persephone didn't want to bring her only to see her continually pushed away or relegated somewhere, it would’ve been rude.

And then, of course, the most pressing issue: was it safe for her? Anubis had invited her for obvious personal interest, and he wouldn’t have been the first God to take advantage of a mortal. Persephone certainly didn’t want to become his supplier of human concubines, even though he was likeable.

So, to be sure of what she was about to do, Persephone asked Hades first, and then her mother, over the phone. The answers were almost identical, for once in their lives.

"Anubis?" Hades said, pragmatic, sincere, "Anubis is harmless. He’s effusive, but he’s a responsible God, he would never do anything rash."

Demeter, on the other hand, was more lapidary:

"Anubis? Anubis is an idiot, but easily distracted. Bring with you a tennis ball and you’ll be fine."

So yes, the Gods all seemed to agree on the nature of the jackal. If not even the apprehensive Demeter was worried about him, he really had to be harmless.

Therefore, it was finally decided: they would’ve gone to Luxor the last week of February. Hades, Persephone and also Caterina, who reacted to the invitation seeming rather flattered. Well, she had her qualms, at first. But she appreciated the character of Anubis and was always interested in making new experiences and learning new things, also because she was looking for ideas for her graduation thesis. After all, it had been easy to convince her. Or, at least, easier than one would have expected from an atheist.

Even if Persephone hadn’t taken it into account, the most difficult part of that journey was to _re-emerge._ When she and Hades left in the car to go back through the tunnel, Persephone was excited to see the light of the sun, breathe fresh air... and instead it turned out to be a difficult, even painful experience.

When the car came out of the tunnel, in fact, it was almost noon: the light blinded them. All of a sudden it penetrated the car windows, though darkened, like the flash of a camera. White light, annoying, which had nothing to do with Erebus’ delicate and bluish atmosphere.

Persephone squinted, shielded her face. She thought she could die stabbed by that light, a straight dagger in the corneas, a concentration of annoying heat on the skin despite being winter. She cursed Helios, Apollo, and every sun God she had in mind.

Immediately, sympathetically, a hand of Hades on the knee. 

"Take my sunglasses."

Persephone would’ve wanted. But she thought that certainly he needed them more; and not only for the sun now, but also for the terrible power in his irises, which Caterina wasn’t used to. Then she refused, assuring him that she would’ve bought a pair at the airport.

She really hadn’t believed it. She hadn’t believed that bearing the surface could be so difficult, and after only a few months. How could Hades take part in that conference in September? And with the heat, too?

She told him:

"Hades, going out for that coffee was a torture, wasn’t it?"

She felt his hand cuddle her thigh casually.

"A remarkable torture." He confirmed, amused.

"You could’ve told me, I would’ve understood. We could’ve met at another time."

The God didn’t answer immediately. Quiet, he continued to caress her with his cool hand, which felt like a panacea in that hot cabin. Persephone sensed that he was smiling. She couldn’t see him, she still had her eyes closed, but she could feel it. She knew him too well by now.

"I couldn't risk you to withdraw the invitation."

Persephone shook her head, laughing.

"I wouldn't have done it!"

"I know. But not back then. You could’ve invited me to the beach at noon and I would’ve accepted anyway. On the other hand, you have descended into the Underworld, we are even."

The Goddess smiled, suddenly full of love. She raised her eyelids a little and looked at him.

"Such a beautiful thing you just said, my King."

But he shrugged his broad shoulders, feigning detachment.

"It's just the truth."

Here again his passive way of being romantic: an attempt to make every gesture pass as thoughtful and logical, even when there was nothing logical about accepting an invitation in a mortal coffee shop, under the sun , from a minor Goddess.

Persephone wrinkled her nose, disapproved, but didn’t reply.

"I like you too, Hades."

She leaned against him and hugged a bicep, which felt like metal wrapped in the precious fabric of the shirt and jacket. He, for his part, said nothing. He just kissed her on the head and paused for a moment to inhale the floral scent.

Maybe he would’ve never said it. Maybe he would never have said openly that he loved her. But after all, Persephone _knew it_. For the first time in her life she was certain of something by her own, without going through the power of certainty in the eyes of the Inexorable.

She just _knew_ it. And that was fine.

Persephone sighted Caterina's unmistakable half-shaved head from afar: she was sitting in the business class lounge and looked more out of place than ever, with her piercings and ripped jeans. immediately, Persephone's heart sank. She only realized at that moment how much she had missed her friend. She missed the university, the long lunch breaks at the bar, or on the lawn in front of a rice salad. She missed the anxiety of exams, making fun of the professors, the jokes, the university library.

He missed many things, yes. And, as she missed them, she felt distant.

As it had often happened to her since she had begun the internship in the Underworld, time seemed to have passed in a non-regular, perhaps not chronological way. After only four months, it seemed to her to have been way a lot longer. Caterina, in her mortality, was blinding her as much as the sun. She seemed a stranger.

It was only a moment, however, a brief distraction. Because, as soon as she saw Persephone, Caterina jumped to her feet. She left the suitcase, the coat fell to the ground and rushed to hug her. At the very moment when they touched, Persephone felt younger, grateful to be able to hold a person of her own size after so long. She almost cried, while they kissed on the cheeks thrice, for good luck.

"Kore, Kore" Caterina murmured when they separated, wiping her tears, "I missed you so much! You're... you're fucking hot! What did you do down there?"

Now Cate was looking at Persephone from head to toe, with curious tropical-colored eyes, lively. She looked at her long dress, her sunglasses, her complexion much less tanned than when she had left.

"I’ve always been hot!" The Goddess teased her, winking at her.

"Yes, yes" Cate rolled her eyes, "but you're different. Are you taller? You look like a noble!"

They laughed together, happy to have found each other. Persephone tried not to give too much credit to that consideration, thinking it was just an impression of her friend: it was all about the expensive dress that Hades had bought her, and the branded sunglasses. Inside, she was still the same. 

_She was, wasn't she?_

She tried not to dwell on the question, not now, she just wanted to have fun. Then she stood aside for a moment to introduce Hades.

"Cate, Hades, you two know each other, don't you?"

Well, to say that they knew each other was a little exaggerated. They had met, and the first time Cate had proven to be afraid of him like all mortals. On that occasion, instead, perhaps because she had had the opportunity to prepare herself psychologically, she had a completely different attitude. She behaved normally: smiled and reached out with the obvious intention of shaking hands.

Persephone laughed quietly, because she was aware that Hades would’ve never shaken hands, it was something he did only with other men. In fact the placid God, with his inexorable gaze hidden behind sunglasses, bowed slightly with the head only. He took her hand, yes, but only to turn it over and touch it with his lips.

Impeccable. Now more than ever, since he was on the surface.

Caterina was surprised but tried to not show it. It was strange to see her there, tiny compared to the God of the dead. But she was not intimidated, in fact she cleared her throat and opened a wide smile.

"Hi, nice to meet you! I wanted to thank you for allowing me to travel with you."

"Nice to meet you, too, milady." Hades was making an obvious effort not to call her _mortal._ A habit for him, as well as for many ancient Gods, especially if they are protectors of the afterlife.

"You didn't have to pay the ticket for me, seriously. You could’ve thrown me in the cargo hold."

"No problem. Moreover, the airline is mine, so..."

" _Hermes Airlines_? I thought it was... of Hermes."

Hades seemed completely disinterested and, if he gave an explanation which he evidently thought obvious, he did it only out of courtesy:

"I funded it for seventy percent. I hold the majority quota in the board of directors, they’d be fool to deny me a ride."

Persephone frowned and turned to him in amazement.

"I didn't think you were interested in mortal companies."

He turned his head in her direction like an owl, motionless throughout the rest of the body. When he spoke, he did it with the tone of someone justifying something embarrassing.

"It was just to do Hermes a favor. He helps with the influx of souls, he deserved a bonus."

"Well, if your bonuses are entire airlines, I can't wait to get a raise, your Majesty." She teased.

Hades did nothing. Privately he would’ve laughed, he didn't do it on that occasion. He was serious, too mechanical, inscrutable in his technical talk, but Persephone knew he did it to hide his nervousness. He was always very uncomfortable in front of humans, now she knew him enough to know. His rigidity on the surface had always been, for the most part, a real inability to relate. A phobia, in a way.

"Now, ladies, I have to organize our departure. Excuse me."

And he disappeared, stiffly, one hand in his pocket and the other straightening the button of his jacket.

Shy. Too, too shy.

Persephone approached Caterina. She noticed her strange expression and hurried to reassure her for the inexorable attitude of the Inexorable.

"Don't judge him too severely, he’s like that because he’s afraid of you."

Cate frowned.

"Of me?"

"Humans scare him."

Caterina was incredulous, partly amused. She shook her head, then, and assumed a false look of threat.

"He better fear me, in fact! I could knock him out at any moment."

Egypt: home of sand, sun and ancient Mysteries.

The heat was unbearable even in February and all three of them noticed it as soon as the door of the plane opened for them on the runway. Fortunately, Persephone had had time to get used to the light again. The same couldn’t be said of Hades: composed and elegant as usual, but evidently uncomfortable under the scorching sun. With his false smile, he seemed to be cursing Apollo, too. Or maybe Ra, since they had changed jurisdiction.

A driver was waiting for them to accompany them to the temple. And the temple, to the astonishment of both Caterina and Persephone, appeared to them as a modern structure when they arrived, outside the city of Luxor. Of course, it was in ancient style: high earth-colored walls, hieroglyphics and carved bas-reliefs of divine figures in profile. But at the same time it seemed new, built a few decades before, at the most.

Like Hades, Anubis seemed to have opted for a mix of old and new.

When the car stopped, they found themselves in the yard outside the entrance. It was a magnificent place, as magnificent was all that surrounded the figure of Anubis, one of the gaudiest among the Gods. There were fountains, huge palm trees, and walls ornate of all colors visible to the human eye; the path itself and the gardens were shaped in the form of _ankhs_ , and Persephone could swear it was visible from space. She took a mental note to look for it on Google Maps.

And finally, he appeared. He was waiting for them, dressed in a dark shirt, informal, had it not been for the gold jewelry he loved to dress up his neck, arms and ears. Next to his dark outline, there were six other figures: cats.

They were humanoid cats. His concubines.

Anubis was a canine divinity, but his feline fetishism wasn’t a secret. He loved them, it was obvious, from the first to the last. He was hugging the two near him, but he was talking with all of them when the guests arrived, and laughing with them in a sincere, cheerful manner. He was at ease among them and the cats on the other hand seemed at ease with him. They were shaking the long tails, excited; the one on his right, a furless cat with grayish skin, was rubbing against him, purring.

Persephone and Caterina were shocked, the latter more than the former. Persephone, for one, was more surprised by the fact that there were _only_ six concubines.

Hades spoke, as if to give voice to their amazement, just before getting out of the car:

"Excuse him if he seems exaggerated. He likes to make a scene."

And he opened the door, without another word.

Immediately, Anubis rushed in, followed by his lovers. He broke away from the two cats he was hugging and held his arms wide to welcome Hades. He jumped and hugged his neck. Persephone found hilarious to see the Inexorable victim of that friendly God.

Immediately after, the jackal rushed to the car and offered his hands to the two girls to come out. Again, he hugged them both, without even waiting for their greeting.

"Persie! Mortal! Welcome, welcome!"

He didn't even let them talk, but they didn't get offended: Anubis was like that. He was over everything and everyone with his exuberance, especially when it was time for greetings. Again, like a dog.

"Come in, come in! You must be tired! I had your rooms prepared and soon there will be a great banquet! Oh, these are my courtesans. Kittens? Come here, greet our guests!"

He signaled the felines to come closer and they obeyed, elegant, whipping with the tails. They kissed all three of the guests on their cheeks, one twisting her tail around Hades' leg, while he was motionless and almost terrified.

"They are the lights of my life" explained Anubis, in the dreamy tone of a young lover, "I stole them from Bastet, they were her maids. But they like staying with me much more, don’t they? Don’t they?" He asked them, in a pettish tone, and in return he obtained languid meows. It was a gruesome sight, at least as much as it was hilarious.

It took a long time for Anubis' exuberance to subside a little and let him behave again like a God. At some point, in fact, he dismissed the cats, kissing them one by one. From that moment, he tidied up his shirt and jewels and personally led the guests inside the temple, with a more relaxed attitude.

"So" he began, with the ears all straight out of happiness, "how was the flight? Everything alright?"

Persephone answered.

"All right, thanks. Just some turbulence when we left, there was a storm while we were flying over the Mediterranean."

"Ah, yes, it's Zeus" the jackal complained, shaking his head and making the jewels jingling, "he's angry, he says this winter is too cold and dry."

Persephone frowned, knowing it was because of Demeter in her war against humanity. She decided to introduce the subject, as they passed through large rooms decorated with rounded columns and frescoes of stylized papyrus.

"My mother is fighting humans. Her passivity is giving problems to all of Europe."

Anubis, making his way, turned his head a little and nodded, serious, with his ears pulled back.

"Oh yes, Persie. The Nile level is low. She's making my palms die. Oh, don't get me wrong: more dead humans, _hurray_! But if she doesn't calm down, she’ll annoy so many other Gods, not just humans."

Persephone swallowed, frightened by that confirmation. She glanced at Hades, who was walking quietly beside them, taking half their steps: she saw him peaceful. He also looked at her, but wearing glasses he was even more difficult to decipher, and Persephone felt like she had just met him. Silent, dark. He was always the one who went unnoticed, when the group of people was substantial, because he was the least inclined to speak.

The Unseen One.

They came into a large hall, with a horseshoe-shaped table in solid gold and an inlaid throne. There were no windows and the thick walls kept a much cooler climate than the outside. The light emanated from hidden lanterns, with real fires to the astonishment of Persephone. Only later she would’ve known that Anubis didn’t like electric light, partly because of his more developed sight, partly because it _ruined his frescoes_. Well, he wasn’t wrong: the natural light of the dancing flames reflected on the colors of the walls and made them stood out: gold, Egyptian blue, purple red, papyrus green. In the whole environment there was an exotic, precious atmosphere that Persephone had only seen in movies.

"Well, here we are. The servants will show you your rooms. I left you the ones with the view of the Nile, I hope you’ll enjoy it!"

At that point, Anubis looked at them and smiled, or so it seemed, because there weren’t many human traits in his facial expressions. The short fur, gunmetal black, reflected the warm light of that place, making it appear as ancient as when Hades dressed in a chiton and sat on the throne. His large triangular, venous, almost transparent ears were thin, and very expressive: those helped his interlocutors understand what emotion he was feeling, more than his face.

"This temple is magnificent!" Persephone commented, entranced by the warm splendor of that place, so similar to Erebus in his old appearance, yet so different.

"Oh thanks. And you what about you, mortal? You’re so silent, are you okay?"

As explicit as it was, it was a serious question, a sincere concern. It was easy to tell it, while Anubis tilted his head left and right, trying to study the blonde girl.

Caterina opened her eyes wide, bewitched. She shrugged her shoulders in her usual shameless way.

"Oh, sorry. I’m honored to be here. You have a fantastic temple, Your Grace."

"Call me by my name, mortal, don’t worry."

Caterina pursed her lips, smiled. She sought Persephone's approval and the Goddess spurred her on. It was so easy to get along with Anubis... it hadn't been so easy with Hades and the Goddess decided to scold him a little bit that night.

"Well, Anubis, thank you for inviting me" Cate continued, correcting the register, "this house is magnificent, seriously. I thought it was a pile of rubble, actually."

And there was the unmistakable roaring laughter of Anubis, a sort of mixture between a howl and a growl, with a face high towards the sky. He even put his hand on his chest, as if he could hardly breathe.

"Oh, mortal, no, no! The old temple is a ruin for tourists! This is quite new, it’s my vacation home. I have a more sumptuous one in Cairo, but everything is so hectic there! I wanted to let you have a relaxing visit, without journalists."

"Anyway, my name is _Caterina_."

She had said it so suddenly, without hesitation or restraint. Tired of being called mortal, Cate now was staring at the jackal God with a proud and peaceful attitude. Not defiant, but nevertheless determined, as if she were not willing to accept just one other name out of place. Because she was like that, she had always been: atheist to the core, she admired the Gods as interesting advances in evolution, but didn’t allow any of them to be treat her as an inferior being. She was bold, no doubt about it.

For a moment, Anubis was confused.

He remained still with his round eyes wide open, perplexed. He turned his snout to look first at Cate, then at Hades, then at Persephone, then at all three of them again. He paused on his friend, silently asking him to confirm that he had heard correctly, and Hades, for the first time since they had arrived, seemed to come back to life: he raised a hand and showed his palm, as if to say: _Don’t expect my help, you invited her._

But Anubis was a modern God, at ease among humans and always willing to forgive their shortcomings. At least, when they were still alive. He wasn’t that gentle with the weighing of the souls, but it was another story.

Then he took a step closer, bent a little until he reached Cate and looked at her more directly.

"I’m sorry, _Caterina_."

To have him so close, she had to lose some of her usual confidence. Not because he was a God, but because of his unusual appearance, probably. Persephone noticed that her friend, suspicious, was looking at the jaws of Anubis, worried.

Even Anubis himself noticed it. Perhaps he was used to it, as Hades was used to being avoided by mortals.

"If my appearance disturbs you, know that I can also take on a completely human form. I don't do it often, they say I look too much like Rami Malek. In my opinion he looks like me, but these are just details."

Then Cate laughed loudly. She shook her head, her blonde tuft covering her playful eyes.

"No, it's not a problem."

"I thought you said my animal form was too _furry_ , or something like that."

But, fortunately for Anubis, Cate was very willing to let herself be teased and to repay the same way. In fact, she retorted:

"Well, I never said that I didn’t like _furries_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi people!  
> As promised, we're in Egypt, finally! Hope you liked it. There's still much to do here thoguh, so stay tuned!  
> Oh, and sorry if I wasn't able to keep up with your comments: I just have a lot of them here and on wattpad, and I'm struggling to reply to them all, even if I like to do it. But I'm here, I read and love them all, seriously!  
> Stay healthy, and see you soon! *.*


	27. Ahteism and hedonism

Sensual.

That was how Persephone would’ve described Anubis residence. Erebus was certainly magnificent, but of an austere splendor, more serious and professional. Persephone felt useful there because she could bring warmth and sensuality. Anubis abode, on the other hand, definitely didn’t need to be warmed up.

Anubis was a hedonist. He loved everything that is beautiful, shiny, passionate. He loved fire and to adorn the walls with it, so that the lights seemed to dance in the darkness; he loved the bright colors of the wall paintings; he loved smoking flavored tobacco from his hookah; he loved the smell of jasmine, lotus and almond incense; he loved to cover windows and terraces with thin transparent curtains, which only pretended to hide what was happening in his rooms; he loved good food, served in monumental plates; he loved jewels, to show them off, hear them clinking; he loved traditional Arabic music, which felt like mysteries and heat, sand and spices; finally he loved his courtesans, their bodies always well dressed, their shiny furs, their erotic belly dance.

In his spasmodic search for beauty and pleasure, however, he was never exaggerated. Perhaps it could sound strange without knowing him at a deep level, because at first glance he seemed to be exaggerated in everything; but, actually, Anubis had many limits, and those limits kept him very distinct from other more reckless deities. He loved pleasures and vices at least as much as he disliked their abuse. That was how he managed to maintain even in that passionate environment a veil of arcane, which never exceeded the boundary of vulgarity.

In short, being there wasn’t like staying at the home of a Hollywood celebrity. There were no rough excesses, there were no noisy orgies, harsh noises, there were no hard drugs, or Dionysian bacchanals. It was a place where you could say yes to many new and sometimes controversial things, but in which there was a right measure and a right time to say that yes. Anubis was a hedonist, yes, but he was also disciplined, which was why Hades could be his friend. And for him discipline meant that every pleasure was allowed, but still confined in a labile and sensual border.

That particular environment, that impalpable carnal atmosphere, could only have an ecstatic, almost hypnotic effect on the guests. Persephone was feeling like being in a dream, or in a state of trance, as she walked the corridors of the building, hearing distant sighs and whispered promises. The same was for Caterina, next to her, with her eyes lost on the walls to analyze the decorations. And the same was also for Hades, although he hid it impeccably. Persephone vowed to take advantage of the atmosphere when he would’ve been more at ease, in the privacy of a bedroom. The only weakness he had allowed himself was in fact to wear a shirt without jacket and tie, and every now and had to widen his collar and raise his sleeves: in that temple it was really very hot, in every way possible.

They came back to the main hall for dinner and it looked like such a different place than before. It was perhaps because of the nocturnal atmosphere, the slightly cooler climate, the smell of the dishes that were about to be served. Or maybe it was the presence of the courtesans, who unlike Anubis were already at the table and were talking to each other, cheerful, on one of the sides of the horseshoe-shaped table.

When they saw the guests entering, they stood up cheerfully, all together. The one who looked like the dominant, the gray cat with no hair, with the smooth skin and the look both shriveled and magnetic, came to welcome them and make them sit down. She didn’t say anything, and only later Persephone realized that none of them spoke their language, or any other language that was not ancient Egyptian. In such a modern world, they spoke almost only among themselves and with Anubis.

Later, the guests discovered that the cat was called Neferu, and when she went back to her side of the table she spread such sensual elegance around her that not only Hades, but also Persephone and Caterina had to follow her movements, bewitched. Her way of walking, swaying with her hips and oscillating the thin tail; her clear, semi-transparent robes, which fluttered behind her in a thousand volutes; her jewels, circles of gold that clutched her arms and neck; everything, really everything about her transmitted sexual desire.

Persephone, still looking at her, reached for Hades, sitting next to him. She joked, speaking softly, trying to detach him from the coldness he had entrenched himself in since they had left Erebus. 

"Maybe leaving the Air Bus souls for these cats isn’t a bad idea."

He immediately took his eyes off the cat and spread a thin grin. He made the first joke since they had left:

"Given how vividly you protested for Mentha, I don't think it would be wise of me."

"I wouldn't protest if we could _both_ enjoytheir company, my King."

He straightened up in his chair and loosen his shoulders a little, then looked away. She laughed at his embarrassed reaction and wondered how could the Inexorable survive in an environment like that. He was more out of place than the polar bear in the Caribbean.

When he spoke, he did it facing away, without looking at her face, as if he didn't want to be heard.

"We’ll have to talk better about this matter, Divine."

"Of course, my King. We will _talk_ about it."

She tapped him on the knee, under the table, and felt him stiffen. He was trying to hide a smile behind the back of his hand.

Anubis knew only one way to enter a room, and it was in great triumph. No matter how informal the occasion was: he had to make his entrance fabulous, always.

And also that evening, and even more so because he was at home. He arrived cheerfully, arms wide open, followed by waiters carrying golden trays, and musicians playing exotic melodies.

He, then, was as magnificent as only an Egyptian God knows how to be. For the first time, Persephone saw him without his modern clothes and in a traditional attire. He was showing off a precious solid gold choker on his bare and dark chest, and many other jewels of the same material on the rest of the body: earrings, bracelets on the biceps and on the forearms, rings also on the toes, and anklets. Even the belt was nothing but a network of thin gold threads, holding up a black _shendyt_ , the traditional skirt of his people, on his narrow and muscular hips. There were, however, two things that most caught the eye: a huge tattoo, golden as well, which seemed part of him and not at all impressed on the skin later in his life, representing an _ankh_ (symbol of life and, by extension, also of death), its loop framing his heart on the sternum; and finally, the shoulders were covered with a heavy leopard cloth.

While making his festive rejoicing, Persephone and Caterina were fascinated by all that luxury, they didn't even try to hide it. Hades, much less impressed, was leaning back in his chair, grinning.

"Dear guests, _iiwy_! Welcome to this humble meal. I hope you’re hungry."

He moved from the center of the hall, saluting his concubines, as if he hadn’t seen them for months. But he moved to the other side of the table, towards the guests, while the waiters served the dinner.

The jackal reached Persephone and Caterina, and bent down between them.

"Persie, as my canines testify, I’m not an expert on vegetarian foods, but I hope I have well instructed the kitchens. And you, mort..." he narrowed his eyes and, annoyed, he tilted his ears back, " _Caterina,_ sorry, sorry. Feel free to eat everything. Even what comes from my sacrifices, it’s my gift to you."

For a moment Cate had to fear that there were human parts coming from the embalming, because she became pale, and she herself seemed an emptied corpse.

But Anubis guessed the problem and chuckled, in his snarling manner. He stretched out on the table, grabbed what looked like a fillet of dried meat, and placed it on her plate.

"They sacrifice me lambs and oxen, don't worry. I don't eat the sacred canopic organs."

At that point, as if to apologize for having disturbed her, he took off his leopard cloak and gave it to her, spreading it on the back of her chair. A sign of respect, which he accompanied by brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers, just for a second. It was difficult to say if it was inappropriate for someone like him, because _everything_ he did seemed erotic, but when he spoke he did it with such genuineness (or almost innocence) that he didn't seem to have any ulterior motives at all. As if his expansiveness, even when it seemed aimed at seducing, was only a natural consequence of his friendly nature.

He straightened up, leaving Caterina in her pale dismay. He resumed his journey to the center of the table, in his place, and when he was near Hades, he merely slipped a hand between the dark curls and ruffled them. What most astonished Persephone at that moment was not only that the Inexorable let him do it, but that he _smiled_ , even. Only then she realized how seriously the two of them were close and sincere friends.

In fact, shortly after, an impertinent joke by the same Hades, which certainly his divine composure wouldn’t have allowed on any diplomatic occasion:

"Are you going to save us your vanity at some point and sit down?"

"Shut up, minor psychopomp. My house, my rules."

The jackal grinned terribly and finally sat sideways on his throne. He pointed his nose up, sniffed the smell of the dishes, then almost lay down on the armrest and looked dreamily at his beloved courtesans. Neferu, the closest to him, started purring. They said something in ancient Egyptian, and the cat meowed contentedly.

He was still looking at Neferu, promising her some kind of nighttime entertainment in their bedroom, when he spoke louder again to the guests.

"Caterina" he began, amused, "Neferu was pointing out that you’re the first living human setting foot in one of my homes in a long time. She is struck by your beauty and loves your bizarre haircut. She has never seen a blonde and shaved woman, you’ll understand."

Caterina, who was pale right a moment earlier, blushed like there was a fire inside of her face.

"Oh, thanks. She’s very beautiful too, tell her, please."

"I tell her every day of my life, believe me."

He looked again at Neferu and all the others, and at that moment Persephone realized that _he really loved them._ Of course, he also paid them, like all the concubines of the modern world: a job like any other. But he treated them as they were his wives. And all of them, in equal measure, as if he were unable to divide the love he felt: he multiplied it indefinitely and still had plenty for many, many other women.

Then, suddenly, like a pointy dog, Anubis straightened up and headed for Cate, this time with an interested look, scrutineer.

"Tell me, young lady, what do you think of Egypt?"

"Oh, it's..." it was strange to see Caterina so embarrassed and speechless, "it's as magnificent and mysterious as in the movies."

"The movies, _ugh_ " Anubis complained, "that stuff put strange ideas in your head, and now humans are impossible to surprise. Also, I and Hades always end up being the bad guys. You expect me to invade the world of living mummies by reading my Book of the Dead, as if it were in my faintest interest. No one ever talks about my positive deeds, like my heroism in tearing down Seth."

Still sitting sprawled on his golden throne, he pointed to the leopard cloak he had laid on Caterina's chair. She hadn’t understood, because she didn’t know mythology very well, so Anubis hastened to explain:

"Seth, that bisexual goat, wanted to profane the body of Osiris, I don’t want to know how. He turned into a leopard, he tried. I stopped him and marked his skin of all those beautiful spots. And then I flayed him. You can be sure that since then no one has dared attacking my graves, much less the leopards. The only cats that aren’t welcome in my bed, for the record."

Caterina was petrified and now she was leaning her back away from the chair, fearing that the cloak was the skin of Seth for real. But it was synthetic, it was obvious. Persephone was used to treat myths with much skepticism, and wondered how much of all that had really happened: it was quite common for the Gods, in front of humans, to boast of far-fetched exploits.

"You _flayed_ Seth?" Caterina asked, really struck and at the same time disgusted, "Well, maybe there's a reason why you always play the bad guy."

And she was back: the real Cate. Persephone laughed, Hades held back his own hilarity.

Anubis, shocked, carried his long, veined ears all backwards.

"Hey, Seth is divine shit!" he exploded, "He’s the God of chaos, storms and violence. I did the world a favor!"

"But he's still alive, isn't he? It’s not like you have really eliminated him."

"Well, no. He can’t die, he’s a God."

"And he still has his skin, from what I know."

"It grew back."

"So, you flayed him for nothing?"

Anubis looked down. He turned to Hades, who still insisted on maintaining a neutral stance, although he was grinning, not very _divinely._ He must have liked to see his friend be cornered.

"What did I say? Humans are impossible to surprise nowadays. Such an infamous era."

And he consoled himself by drinking wine. Caterina only for a moment seemed undecided about what she had done, perhaps wondering if she had dared too much. But no, it wasn't like that: Anubis took care to calm her by giving her a wild wink, while he drank from his cup.

The meal progressed cheerfully, and it couldn’t be otherwise with Anubis as host. He loved irony and self-irony, and wasn’t offended by anything. He tried to get everyone involved, even the quieter Hades, or the cats which didn't speak any international language, translating for them. When he was the one in charge, it was like having a pack leader. Authoritative, but not of the same, serious power of Hades: he was a kind of leader who mixed well with the group, involving both guests and subordinates. He charmed with his behavior, both refined and down to earth. And it was a unique case among the Gods, reason for which Caterina seemed to admire him a lot.

Then, when the dinner was over and their cups emptied, Hades introduced the most pressing matter.

"I’m well aware you’ll hate me now, my friend, but there’s the Air Bus case to be treated."

Anubis, as Hades had foreseen, rolled his black eyes and pretended to stab his heart in the center of the tattoo of the looped cross.

"Please, save us the work for _one_ night!"

"You’ve been deferring for months." Hades scolded him, and although he still sounded joking, it was clear that for him the issue was serious.

"It's not urgent!"

"Nothing is urgent for you. But to me, this case is on my head like Damocles’ sword. The sooner we discuss it, the sooner my good humor comes back, the sooner we can enjoy the holiday."

"You’re into such delightful metaphors, today" the insolent jackal teased him, "I would’ve said that this case is on your balls like your grandfather’s sickle, instead."

Persephone opened her eyes wide, hearing Anubis talking about the castration of Uranus in such terms, but again Hades surprised her with his tolerance: he stretched his hands on the table and spoke as categorically as patient.

"Anubis, we better talk about it now, if you don’t want to waste your and your concubines time after the dinner."

Anubis shook his sharp, distraught head, while his ears swirled left and right. He wet his nose with the tongue before speaking.

"All right, let's talk about it now. But I’m not sending away the guests, so put the privacy on your Mysteries aside."

Hades raised his hands in surrender, leaning back in his seat.

" _Your house, your rules_."

Anubis got up quickly and began to walk on the opposite side of the table, to the cats. He stopped between two of them, rested his elbows on their chairs and began to caress them behind his ears. For the first time, however, there was nothing erotic in that gesture. Or rather, he was allusive and affectionate from the neck down: his face, however, had taken on a serious expressiveness, more similar to the sculptures of him, in the tombs of the pharaohs.

"So, Hades, what do you want in exchange for those souls?"

"Nothing. I want the souls."

"Agreements are based on the assumption of compromise, my friend."

"There’s nothing to agree on: that plane crashed into my territory, mine are the souls of those pantheists. You just have to give them to me."

"They had crossed the border for just a few meters, they were coming back home from a last prayer in the Egyptian temples."

"There are borders to be respected. One inch makes the difference. And about who they prayed last, you know very well not to be relevant. Don't lose yourself in quibbles."

Caterina and Persephone remained motionless. They glanced at each other and Persephone saw her friend astonished that they were really talking about it in front of her. In the meantime, the Gods were staring at each other: Anubis with greedy, concentrated gaze, and Hades imperturbable as usual, especially with his sunglasses on.

They were two powers: in that moment it was clear to Caterina, to Persephone, and to the cats. They all remained motionless while the two deities stared at one another without saying a word. Just there Persephone saw clearly the _true_ godly nature of Anubis, now that he wasn’t showing his usual exuberance. He also knew how to be demanding in his work, not to say terrifying.

Everything remained blocked for a few more minutes, at the eternal rhythm of the ancient Gods. Then, Anubis unlocked it and talked again, and it was as if he were resuming a speech that he and Hades were having telepathically.

"You know that I value the quality of the souls more than quantity. I'm a collector, I don't expect them all. But between them there are some faithful who have made me many offers."

"Those faithful believed in us all" resumed Hades, stoic, a plaster statue, "they didn’t believe in you particularly, so territorial jurisdiction is to be applied. They died in the Aegean and they are mine _. All of them._ "

"You’re greedy, Hades."

"I'm fair. I never claimed as mine the pantheists dying in the Nile or in the Red Sea."

Caterina and Persephone bounced their gaze between one contender and another as during a tennis match. A very lively and tense game. Persephone, for her part, said nothing because she had no experience of that sort of international divine law, and was following everything as one of the first lessons of the internship.

Meanwhile, the environment had become cold, suddenly, because a Cronid had decided it and it didn't matter that he was a guest. When he was on business, Hades saw no hospitality, no favors, no friends, no love.

Anubis sighed, the dark sculpted and tattooed chest rose annoyed.

"Among them there is... there is a woman..."

Hades, from behind his dark glasses, seemed to judge him sufficiently.

"Anubis, really? Another one? Your taste for beautiful women is often the main cause of your weaknesses."

Hades, as severe as when he sat on the throne, was brutally honest, and he hadn’t edulcorated his opinion just because there were other women in the room. On the other hand, Anubis himself had asked him not to have Mysteries and he was satisfying it all too well.

"It's not because she’s beautiful" the jackal barked, unnerved, "I'm not so superficial, I value the lightness of the soul. And hers, oh, hers is one of the lightest I've ever seen. In Erebus she would surely access the Elysian Fields and..."

"And what? Don’t you think it’s a quite worthy fate?"

"I just want to weigh her myself, Cronid!" this time it was Anubis who reproached him, warning Hades about his serious intentions, "there’s a statue of me in the center of her domestic altar, so many nights she turned to me crying alone. I know you don't understand mortal affection, but I'm not like you. As I said, I pay close attention to the quality of my souls, and I’d love to have this one. Not because she's a woman. Because she’s a person I would like in my Underworld, that's all. I have far fewer shadows than you, Lord Almighty, grant me that one."

In that last sentence, Anubis had spoken with a subtle note of reverence. He was one of the most important Gods, but he wasn’t a king and wasn’t as old as Hades, so he still was inferior, in the great unitary hierarchy of the Pantheons. He was proud, as it was normal for a God, but he knew his place, also because there was almost no one superior to the Cronids.

There was another tense pause. Persephone scanned her partner and saw him straight, impassive, with his typical tic in his jaw to indicate that he was meditating and perhaps grinding his teeth.

What happened later was completely unexpected. No one saw that coming, not even Persephone: Caterina intervened.

Caterina intervened, with all the innocent curiosity of a young mortal scholar.

She spoke and asked the question that was evidently cluttering her head:

"Sorry, why don't you let them choose?"

Hades and Anubis turned their heads together towards her, so slowly that Persephone almost felt the walls freeze. The fires seemed about to go out. Persephone admired her friend and, if she didn’t give her any support, it was only because by now she had learned enough of the Gods of the underworld, and she knew why they didn’t accept such a solution.

"Choose?" Anubis retorted, for the first time not at all playful, "Should we let the souls choose?"

Caterina seemed to become small, but didn’t give up. 

"Is it so strange?"

Anubis shot a glance at Hades, as if he were wondering if they were being teased. He had to give her the benefit of the doubt, though, because he resumed speaking sternly to her:

" _Mortal_ , what do you think, that in hundreds of thousands of years we never thought about it?"

"I don’t know. I was just curious."

Contrite words that didn’t sound such. Now Anubis was staring at her, tilting his head to the right and to the left, like a confused dog, studying her. Hades said nothing, and Persephone knew it was because he wasn’t in his house. If he had been on the throne of Erebus, however, he would’ve said the exact same thing that the jackal said:

"There is a time to decide, Caterina, and that time has passed for them. You must choose in life what Pantheon to follow, you can't change your mind after death. If this were the case, no one would pray to us, no one would commit to honoring us while alive, and after death everyone would choose the afterlife according to their faults. If you embrace a faith, you must do it with respect."

"But they believed in all the Gods, they weren’t atheists."

Anubis nodded and finally his voice softened. The cats, still under his touch, relaxed with him.

"Those pantheists decided that any afterlife was fine for them. Not choosing was their choice and they knew the consequences. Now it’s Gods’ jurisdiction."

"But... but it would be so simple, if only..."

Caterina was obstinate, and Persephone saw herself in that attitude, when she was at the conference, stubborn and fighting for the good of humanity. But she had changed. The internship in Erebus had opened her eyes to many things, had given her a broader view (not necessarily more merciful or more pleasant) about life, death, the Wheel and all Destinies.

But Anubis was a patient God, as much and more than Hades when it came to conversing with living humans. In fact, he abandoned the cats, went around the table and came to their side. Caterina instinctively recoiled with her head when she saw him looking at her, penetrating as a predator.

"I don't usually ask, believe me. But what do you believe in, mortal?"

He had resumed calling her that, but not to annoy her, far from it: because now he was speaking to her in the guise of God, not as a guest, not a friend.

"I... I..." but she stopped, she couldn't finish.

For the first time in her life, Cate was feeling embarrassed to admit it. Persephone put a hand on her knee and calmed her, because she knew that Anubis wouldn’t have been offended.

"Say it. Anything will do.” Anubis himself encouraged her.

Cate swallowed, shook her head, brushed the blond tuft from her eyes.

"I don't... I don't believe in anything. I am an atheist."

Anubis sighed powerfully at that revelation but, as he had promised and as it was in his nature, he didn’t take is as an offense. He remained motionless, staring at her, standing over her, and she held his gaze.

"An atheist. I knew you would’ve been a difficult soul, but not up to this point" he confessed with bitter irony, "we’ll have to gamble on your shadow and, believe me, I’d be willing to use loaded dice to win you."

The situation was even more difficult now. But cold as before: there was a sort of impalpable, vague sexual tension, light as Middle Eastern silk.

Anubis sighed for the second time and seemed to take in a scent that only he could smell. It seemed he wanted to move, touch the girl below him, but unlike his usual he kept his hands where they were, hard, one on the back of the chair, the other on the table.

"I must confess that you nonbelievers intrigue me" he continued with the same seductive voice, which was beginning to influence everyone, "it’s impossible that you don’t believe in anything. Don't you even believe I'm real, even if I'm in front of you? I would understand if you didn’t believe in the divine nature of Hades or Persephone, they have a human form after all. But what about _me_? What am I, according to an atheist?"

Although expressed with sharp eroticism, that was a genuine question, and Caterina genuinely replied:

"You're like them. You’re an extraordinary being who’s definitely not human and I can’t explain. But you're biological. Maybe very long-lived and very strong, but you are a being like us. Even humans from a bacterium's point of view look like Gods."

"But you don't claim to be Gods over bacteria."

"Just because you do it over us doesn’t mean you’re right. You have revealed yourself, but you’ve never yet given a concrete proof of your divine nature."

But Anubis was a wise God and he know how to answer wisely.

"The day you’ll be able to explain to a bacterium why you are a Goddess, Caterina, that same day I’ll be able to explain to you why I am a God."

Caterina opened her mouth but could no longer say anything. And then Anubis did it: he reached out an hand, he brushed her cheek. Persephone looked at Hades, wondering if it wasn’t better to take it easy, and the Cronid in fact tried to intervene:

"Anubis, she’s tired, let her breathe."

The jackal brought back his ears and didn’t stop caressing her, didn’t listen to Hades because he had no bad intentions and wanted to prove it. In fact he looked at Caterina with piercing eyes, similar to the darkness of a monumental tomb, yet he was never pressing. Caterina herself was agitated, yes, but of positive agitation, full of expectation.

Anubis had that effect on many women.

"I know why you were interested in those pantheists. You know that one day we will discuss your soul and fight over it the same way, this scares you very much. But don't fear."

He lowered his hand, serious, sensual, yet cold. It was so hard to interpret as him as he moved slowly, until his clawed palm rested on her chest, between her breasts.

He stopped there. At first it appeared to be a gesture of seduction, but soon it revealed all his macabre beauty. He wasn't touching her: he _was measuring her heart._

She also had to realize it, because she held her breath under the heavy pressure of the God, in what appeared to be a medical visit, detached and yet so fiery.

"You can rest easy, girl, you have no reason to fear death" he finally decreed, delicate, with a serene smile, "your soul is lighter than my lightest feather. Keep it this way and everything will be fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, this is one of my favourite chapters!  
> Oh, if you want, I made a photomanipulation of my modern Anubis, [HERE](https://www.deviantart.com/lunarmorrigan/art/Anubis-835532784).  
> Thank you so much for reading, and until next time! *.*


	28. Regretting the sun

Those days in Egypt were like a cure, at least as much as they were stressful at the same time. Not for everyone, only for Persephone. Caterina was enjoying her stay and Anubis with her (it was never clear how deeply, on a carnal level). For the Goddess, on the other hand, it was more unnerving: she saw Hades avoiding the festivities, always aside, and she suffered because of it. Just as it had happened at a charity auction, months before, she now saw him as little involved and wondered why. Was he in a bad mood? Did he have concerns? Perhaps he just missed Erebus, his home, his habits. He was a methodical and shy God, it was normal. But anyway, Persephone was sad to see him so out of the scene and the fact that he didn't talk about his problems didn't help at all. The Goddess suffered for him at dinner, when he was the silent one, or when the cats innocently tried to seduce him and he didn't even enjoy a hint of chaste embarrassment. She suffered especially when the rest of the group was busy in afternoon pastimes and he remained a stranger to it.

One day, in fact, Cate, Anubi and Persephone had gone swimming on the bank of the Nile. From the villa there was private path, surrounded by papyrus, which led on a white sand beach just for them. There, a river bight a little deeper than the others caused the water to stagnate and slow down the rapids, creating a calm pool suitable for bathing. And so, enjoying the warmth even though it was only February, the three of them spent the day sunbathing. At some point the cats had joined, although they made clear their desire to not wet even a single claw.

Anubis, of course, loved water, because he loved everything. On that occasion he tried to involve his concubines, splashing a few drops towards them and obtaining just aggressive hisses. Then he turned to Caterina and encouraged her to follow him.

"Are you sure we can swim here?"

She was hesitant. She looked at the tall green rushes and the placid hopping frogs, perhaps wondering if there were bacteria waiting for her.

"This beach is mine, I bought it on purpose!"

"Yes, but... aren't there alligators?"

Anubis, shocked, pulled back his ears. His carved and dark chest swelled, feigning offense.

"Alligators?" He complained, "Caterina, it’s true, I want you dead, but not so cruelly. Who do you think I am? Go for it, there’s no alligator!"

And then he took her and threw her into the water, in that river that was immediately deep.

In the meanwhile, Persephone was watching them, and then Hades, waiting motionless on the terrace of their room, in the shade of a pergola of vines. He noticed she was looking at him and with a nod he encouraged her to have fun. But Persephone could not.

"Leave him alone, Persie!" Anubis exclaimed, already submerged up to his neck and holding Caterina on his shoulders, clutching her clear thighs with his claws, careful not to hurt her, "he’s okay, he just doesn’t like the sun."

Persephone nodded, smiled and finally joined them. But she had the distinct feeling that no, it wasn't _just the sun._

Understanding what problems crowded Hades' mind was always difficult. Empathy wasn’t really useful if he persisted in being as silent as a grave. Even that evening at dinner, in fact, he was really distant, he ate little and without appetite. Of course, he still was the usual gentleman. He smiled when it was proper, honored the women around him, and especially missed none of his usual attentions to Persephone: he always offered her the chair, filled her cup. But inside he seemed elsewhere, very far with his mind and intentions.

When they retired to their rooms, even worse. He crossed the golden threshold, sighing, letting Persephone enter without following her. He remained still for a moment at the door after having closed it, as if he were tired. Finally, he took off his sunglasses and squeezed his eyes with his other hand, as if they hurt. For the first time, he seemed vaguely _old_ in his body.

Even though Persephone had already entered the room, she came back. She joined him at the door and hugged his waist, from behind, clutching as hard as she could. That always made him laugh, because he could barely feel her, no matter how much strength and effort she put.

"My King, what is it? You look upset."

He sighed under her grip. Persephone felt his ribs expand and could hardly keep her hands together around him.

"I’m sorry." He said, without adding anything else.

"You don't have to apologize, I just want to know what's wrong."

"Just thinking."

Hades was definitely a mono-tasking God: he couldn't do more things at once and Persephone was very used to his concept of _thinking._ It was an activity that took away his ability to do anything else and could last many hours, or many days, because the timings of the Cronids, and Hades in particular, were always calibrated on a large scale.

"What are you thinking about? Maybe I can help you."

"Many things, little girl."

Pulling words out of his mouth would’ve been more difficult than expected: the Goddess understood this when he swiveled in her grasp and, after giving her a fleeting kiss on the forehead, he left. He walked towards the center of the room and violently abandoned the glasses on a table, hating them passively. 

He sighed again, he closed his eyes and seemed sad, in the center of that luxurious room, too bright for someone like him, even at night. The gold color of the furniture and decorations reflected on his alabaster skin and gave the idea of hurting him.

Persephone moved closer, convinced to make him relax. She made him sit on the edge of the bed, pushing aside the thin curtains of the canopy. After that, she climbed astride him with a languid smile and began to undo his shirt buttons. The ibis decorated on the walls were spying them, as the moon from the terrace.

"My King, would you have some Schweppes, just me and you?"

" _What?_ "

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the kind of man to understand the quote. Then Persephone laughed and shook her head.

"Nothing. Just a stupid joke."

"Your jokes are so weird."

"Or maybe you are weird, your Majesty. Now kiss me."

She didn't wait for him to do it, because he probably would’ve complained about her too strict voice. The Cronids didn't like receiving orders, even in the bedroom, at least as much as she liked to give them.

Persephone pressed her lips to his first, then, and made her way deep with her tongue. She felt his muscles relax slowly, his breathing heavier and quieter. When she broke away, she continued the work of relaxation with smaller but no less passionate kisses on the cheek, then the angle of the jaw, the neck, and finally the shoulder, widening his shirt.

Hades squeezed her, holding her in his arms and blocking her back so as not to let her fall. He ran his hands over her thighs, raising her dress, passing under her skirt and grasping her buttocks. When he too became more voracious, he began to return kisses on her neck. He slid the shoulder straps over her arms, then lowered the whole dress and freed her breasts. Finally, he grabbed them both, and bent over to be able to kiss them, sucking the nipples and making them immediately hard, due to his passionate coldness.

And there, taking Persephone by surprise, he slowed down and stopped, bitterly, as if he had been disappointed by something. The Goddess looked down and saw that he was frowning. With his thumb he traced the sign of the swimsuit on her tanned shoulder, as if he had noticed the difference in tone only at that moment. Which was quite plausible, because his eyesight wasn’t very good, especially with colors.

Persephone clung to his neck, sank her fingers into the black curls and cuddled him.

"What is it, Hades? Are you okay?"

"You’ve tanned."

"Don’t you like it?"

The God sighed, gave her a chaste and hard kiss on the lighter line of skin. He squeezed her harder, as if afraid to let her go, to see her escape.

"I like it."

When he became so evasive it was really hard to talk to him. Persephone, arming herself with all the patience she could, tried to play down.

"You know, when we went out for that coffee, at the university, I thought you considered my tan not very aristocratic."

Finally he chuckled. Slowly, like a very distant seaquake.

"No, I find it exotic. Once this was my skin tone, too."

"So what is it?"

He shrugged, more shy than usual. He buried his face in her chest again, as if he wanted to take refuge there. He began to touch her nipple with his thumb, but this time it didn't seem sexual: it was like a thoughtless gesture, to distract himself.

"There are many problems collecting in this period" he confessed softly, "this Air Bus case is giving me many doubts. And then there’s your mother making the Gods nervous, and Erebus filling with souls while we're here. It wasn't a good idea to leave right now."

It was strange to feel him worried. As a good leader, he usually gave off only tranquility and stillness. But Persephone took it as a compliment: he trusted her so much that he could let her see him weak. It wasn’t normal for the Gods, especially the Kings.

"Don't worry. We’ll solve the Air Bus issue. And your subordinates are reliable, they’re taking care of the kingdom."

"I know, I trust them. But I should be there. And then your internship will end soon."

Persephone frowned, stiffened. She pulled him off her chest, just to look at him directly. So closely, she had to be careful not to dwell too much on his eyes, but she tried to resist, and let him know how serious she was on the subject.

"Are you afraid I'm going to leave?"

Hades didn’t answer immediately. He pursed his lips, lowered his eyelids, perhaps to avoid being overwhelmed by certainties himself. Or maybe because he didn't have too many in that moment.

"Before I was afraid, now I expect it."

"What? What do you mean?"

He swallowed uneasily.

"Can I be honest with you, Kore?"

"You have to."

"Just a few weeks ago I wouldn’t have cared. I would’ve insisted telling you that you belong to Erebus, because it’s the place for you and we are destined. If you had doubts, I would’ve offered you a steady job and it would’ve ended like that. I still think that, I’m sure Erebus needs you. But I’ve also seen how good you feel out here."

"Oh, Hades, you really shouldn’t…"

But he interrupted her, prevented her from blocking him in his monologue.

"I mean I'm no longer sure you _should_ be down there. You’re good here on the surface, with the sun, your friends, your mother, your university. I just can't find one valid reason why you should be with me. I know I’m a serious man and I know that my kingdom wouldn’t be anyone's first choice. Of course they thought I had kidnapped you, which woman would ever voluntarily come down there? In a cold, sterile place... and with a sterile companion."

Downcast, he ran her body with a hand, leaving the breasts and resting his palm on her belly. He covered it all. He pressed a little, as if to regret that it was empty.

Persephone sighed. She let him do it, just for a moment, even if she didn't approve. As usual, Hades was running too far with his foresight.

"Hades, I don't want kids now, why do you always have to anticipate problems?"

"Because it’s better to face them, when you know they’ll come. You _will_ want children, one day. _I know,_ as I know that this is the only thing I can’t give. You're so young, Kore... I should have waited."

Persephone sighed. She shook her head, the flowers in her hair weak, a little withered. She wasn't exasperated, or disappointed, no. She was just sad that he had to create problems that didn't exist already. She didn’t doubt his ability to identify them in advance: he was probably right about the fact that Persephone wanted children. But it was an eventuality that could have happened centuries later, why ruin the evening now?

She surrounded his cheeks, tried to make him look up. She succeeded and smiled at him, calm and encouraging.

"You and your obsession for making plans" she teased him, "you have to learn that some things just happen. We’ve found each other and now I want to stay in Erebus, enjoy it even if you didn't foresee it. Being destined doesn’t mean having a plan for everything, Fate is no stranger to Chaos. It doesn't work like that, just accept that _I love you_."

It just came out instinctively, she wasn’t thinking. Because that was her way of walking through life: impulsively and without planning. The complete opposite of Hades, who in fact was astonished by that last declaration. He held his breath, turned stiff again. Persephone saw his clear irises dart sideways, embarrassed, so as not to see her directly.

"You don't have to say it, if you don't want to."

For a moment, he seemed completely blown away. Out of place. Petrified. He swallowed hard, and Persephone could almost feel his heart speeding up. Very human.

"I..." he hesitated, and it was so rare to see him hesitate, "I... I never say it because... it's an _understatement_. There’s no human word that can describe what I feel for you. Since the dawn of times, before you were born."

Persephone felt her stomach, heart, lungs, and everything inside her tighten. She was emptied of every useless vital organ and filled with the love she felt for Hades, the God and the Man. She wouldn't have said it a few months ago, not really. But there she was: for once she was the one with no doubt.

A few tears of joy escaped her and she couldn’t hold them back. She knew he didn't like them, but she hoped the Inexorable would forgive her for that human weakness, now that he too was so humanly emotional.

He didn’t forgive her because the tears didn’t even bother him on that occasion. If he tried to dry them with his fingers, it was only to get closer to her even more.

"Well" the Goddess mumbled, sobbing with love, "you'll agree with me, my King, that suppressing such a powerful feeling would’ve been stupid. You were right _not_ towait."

"Still not sure it was right" he joked, a little lighter, his eyelids heavy and half-closed, "but it definitely was beautiful."

Persephone hugged him tightly. She jumped and put her arms around his neck, squeezed him as much as she could. She felt he was doing the same. Well, not quite the same, or he would have crushed her. But he hugged her in a heavier grasp than usual, which now made sense: he was _really_ afraid that she could abandon him.

The Goddess rested her chin on his solid shoulder and decided to reassure him in that aspect, whispering in his ear the same words he himself had said:

"If you have any doubts about my stay, you can offer me a steady job, your majesty."

He chuckled, without breaking away. More than the actual sound, which was always too subdued and deep, Persephone could tell it from the hopping of his shoulders.

"There would be a vacancy as King's counselor."

"Wow, sounds like a big score for an intern. I'm in!"

But he laughed again. He untied from the hug only to look at her face, with an allusive smile.

"Not so fast, miss. I’ll have to examine your application. Let me have your resume, we'll let you know."

But that was a game that they could both play, and then Persephone answered his grin with an even more worrying grin. She put both hands on his shoulders and pushed him a little. Hades indulged her: he lay on the mattress, his shirt open and his bulge pressing on her already, constricted in his trousers.

"My King, my resume includes several _intimate_ competences, it would be appropriate to illustrate them to you in person."

She rubbed on him in a wavy and sensual motion, biting her lower lip to keep from laughing too much. He answered with a sigh, digging his fingers into her soft, full thighs.

"I find your attitude very inconvenient, Miss."

"Not so inconvenient as it was to offer an internship to a girl three hundred thousand years younger."

She laughed provocatively and then leaned down to unfasten his belt.

"That was a disinterested offer."

"Yeah? _Entirely_?"

"... at ninety percent."

At that moment he seemed to curse his honesty, because Persephone saw him moisten his lips, amused and at the same time nervous. Seeing him like this, finally relaxed after many days, gave her even more desire to tease him: with his belt just unfastened, she tied his wrists. In all likelihood, he let her do it just because it was completely unexpected.

"You... you are bringing the _inconvenient_ term on a completely new level, Miss." He mumbled, laughing and fearing the unexpected backhand of the events, while she tied the belt to a pillar of the headboard.

"I learned from a good teacher."

Hades looked up at his bound wrists, restless. He swallowed again and Persephone laughed at his over-protruding Adam's apple, which exposed his nervousness so well.

"I think I got into trouble."

"I’m afraid so, my King."

Persephone gave him the last smile, as she raised her skirt and moved her underwear to one side. Without waiting any longer, she closed her eyes and pushed herself on him, letting him penetrate her, with a heavy sigh.

"You see, my King" she murmured between one movement and another, lustful, " you can't get rid of me trying to make me regret the sun. I’m your problem now. And I will be for a long, long time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They said it, hehe. It was about time! xD  
> Sorry for the delay, I'm slowly getting back to work finally! But don't worry, at least one chapter a week is guaranteed!  
> Thank you for reading and stay safe and healthy, folks! Love you! :3


	29. The knot and the prophecy

Time had no sense in Hades’ presence.

Persephone had had that impression several times, but she had always ended up connecting the slowness to Erebus, the new environment in which she had found herself. But it wasn’t the Underworld, it was its King who manipulated minutes and hours: Persephone confirmed it that evening, in Luxor, far from the underground, abandoned with him on the bed after making love. With him by the side, seconds seemed like hours, hours seemed like weeks. Even his breath, too slow, failed to emulate that of a human being and slowed the perception of everything around him. That was probably a power he had inherited from his father, Cronus, the same Time incarnated in the form of Titan.

Whatever the reason for the flow of life that deviated in his proximity, Persephone liked it. She loved being near him, enjoying his long, yet explanatory silences. Like that night, she liked resting her head on his chest, staring at his features from below. She liked to feel his heart beating inside him. She liked to stretch out her fingers and cuddle the hump of his nose. 

He looked at her, leaning back a little with his chin: he raised an eyebrow, looked at her unkempt hair with a loving but critical eye, as if seeing them untidy bothered him. Then he began to take her curls between two fingers and give an appearance of organization, moving them behind her ears, rearranging the flowers and removing some fallen petals. But then, he smiled in surrender, and gave up his intent.

 _You don't make sense_ , he seemed to say in his own mind, _but it’s okay._

That night their slow and languid stroking was going on for a while and Persephone was sleepy by now. She was already in a state of drowsiness and was dreaming of senseless things when something woke her up. She couldn’t immediately say what, maybe a sound, then she looked up and saw Hades. He was giggling.

"What was it?"

"Anubis. He’s howling."

Persephone was now completely awake and remained still to listen. Shortly thereafter, a moan from outside came distinctly to her ears. The Goddess glanced over the window overlooking the Nile and saw that there was still light in the rooms of Anubis, and a lot of movement. The cats were meowing.

"Oh Gods, are they still having sex?"

Hades laughed, with a hint of his usual embarrassment: that would’ve never disappeared completely, not even in the privacy of their room.

"Well, if he doesn't work he has sex, he’s quite predictable."

"Stop making fun of him! He at least knows how to have fun."

Hades frowned, pretending resentment. The silky hair, darker than the waters of the Styx, scattered on the pillow: they had grown longer during intercourse, a sign that he had enjoyed it particularly.

"You mean that I don't know how to have fun?"

"Never heard you howling."

"I’m silent but efficient. Remember it, little girl."

And slapped her gently on the buttock, grabbing it immediately and squeezing it. Persephone emitted a light, amused moan, and slumped even more on his chest.

They stayed to listen a little more, laughing at the noise that the jackal was putting up, as a good exhibitionist. The various shades of groans seemed to only increase.

"I’ve always admired his ability to satisfy them all at once." Hades confessed, in a tone that was both genuine and teasing.

"Don’t act so modest. You said you had concubines, you're not new to orgies for sure."

"I never got to six." He shrugged, guilty.

And them, while Persephone was wondering if there wasn’t seven women in that room, including Caterina, suddenly he changed expression. He became serious, brooding. He looked down again and began to trace the curve of her ear with a finger. At first the Goddess thought she wanted to reassure her that he now needed one woman only, and perhaps it was also so; but when he spoke, for some reason, something unexpected came out of his lips:

"You say he loves them?"

The Goddess was surprised because he wasn’t one to talk about feelings, nor to ask for help so blatantly. It was like he were admitting that with his friend certainty didn't work: he needed another kind of power to decipher Anubis.

Persephone sighed, and lay down on her back. The naked breasts pointed upwards, full and healthy.

"Yes, he loves them very much, all six of them. And he’d love others if he had any. He doesn’t feel the same way we feel, he has a different idea of love. But it's real."

Hades immediately believed her, and it was something that Persephone loved of him. True, he was ambitious and proud, but he respected the roles and their limits: when he asked her for something that wasn’t his domain he didn't dare to reply.

"And the souls?" He asked quietly, as if it were a sin and he didn't want to be heard.

Persephone shrugged.

"Why do you ask? For the Air Bus case?"

Hades nodded. He turned in her direction and placed a kiss on her temple before explaining.

"Now you’re my counselor, aren’t you? I'm sorry to ask you a night shift so suddenly, but the doubt is killing me" he giggled, then spoke again, seriously, "I’m serious, I can’t understand why sometimes he gets so attracted to some souls. It happens often to him, they’re women usually. For a long time I assumed he was superficial."

"Oh, no, I can tell you he’s not."

Hades continued to stare at her, interested.

"And what is it, then?"

"He creates powerful bonds with everyone. He must be one who listens to the prayers of his faithful. I really don't think it's carnal love, I think he wants those souls because he wants to comfort them. And I think, maybe… he seeks women mostly because he can understand them better."

"Uhm."

Persephone looked at him and saw in the sharp composure of his features that he was meditating. But like everything for Hades, it would’ve taken time, so the Goddess didn’t expect a verdict that evening. She let him reason. She let him imagine the intimate prayers of the mortals he had never heard, because no one gave them to him. She let him regret the warm and loving relationship that Anubis had built with humanity.

Now that they were in business field, however, Persephone also had a request. Then she took courage and tried to propose it, hoping not to touch any sore spot.

"Hades, can I ask you a favor?"

He roused himself from his static meditation and looked at her, black sclera almost invisible in the night, clear irises dazzling.

"Anything."

"I'm still working on Alexios’ case, as we said. And... I know she's a mortal, I know both I and her are not yet authorities on judgments... but I've always worked and studied with Cate and I’d love to have her opinion."

Hades frowned in surprise. For a moment Persephone thought it was because he considered the request insane, but no: he thought it was _unnecessary._

"Why are you asking me?"

"Well, she's a human... you hate humans."

"She's important to you, Kore. So, she's important to me."

Precise, categorical, as when making a sentence on the throne. Persephone wouldn’t have expected that answer, even if it didn’t sound generous. It only sounded logic.

"Well, thanks. You’re very jealous of your Mysteries, I thought it bothered you."

But he shook his head, exhaling quietly like the ocean's undertow.

"No. They’re not my Mysteries. They’re _our_ Mysteries, now. You can treat them as you prefer... _my Queen._ "

_My Queen._

It wasn’t the first time he had run too far with words, but surely that was the most blatant one. It was also the strangest, to be honest. Because that term hadn’t suddenly escaped his lips, as if it had always considered it obvious. No: he had hesitated a little before saying it, he had considered whether it was proper, a sign that he had decided to externalize it more than ever consciously.

Persephone wondered for a long time why.

It didn’t make sense, it wasn't his usual way of behaving. So determined in his indecision, and so exaggerated... of course, he had joked many times about they being married, about being together, but he had never joked about a title.

Never.

_Never on a title._

For him, titles were sacred and required official status. He had a deep respect for the hierarchy, for the roles. He would never have dared to grant someone a greater undeserved rank, nor to downgrade a well-earned merit. For him, the hierarchy was law. So, if he had said _my Queen_ , he meant it, it wasn't just a nice nickname. Persephone feared that he had anticipated it to _get her used to it._

She tried not to think about it. She didn't say anything on that occasion and Hades had to notice her stiffness, because he didn't comment further. He just kissed her forehead and told her to sleep, because she seemed tired. The Goddess, silent, had obeyed, lying down on his bicep and sleeping, not really quiet.

The next day that title still troubled her, but he on the other hand acted as if the problem didn't even exist. He was gentle as usual: they ate breakfast together and he served her a drink and a meal, he said nothing strange or out of the ordinary.

Persephone started thinking that the problem really was all in her head.

In the afternoon, to distract herself, she decided to make good use of Caterina's company and to share with her the investigation about Alexios’ case. The girl immediately showed interest but professionalism: as Persephone had expected. She was an atheist, so she didn't believe in any of the mystical aspects of the matter, but she could still analyze the case based on the guilt of the three people involved: Eurydice, the child and his father. And she knew how to do it very, very well. Not for nothing her dream was to become a magistrate.

Therefore, they stayed in Cate’s room, during the hottest hours after noon, on the terrace under the pergola of vines, enjoying the sun.

They worked for a while. It took a long time to explain the situation to Cate and to share with her what Persephone had already discovered, also about Pirithous, Eurydice’s aggressor and son of Zeus. Finally, when she was updated of everything, Cate sat down on a deck chair, sipping some iced tea. After several minutes of meditation, she proposed a line of work:

"Have you tried to interrogate those people? I understand you have this... _Telegraphic Loom_... "

"Telematic Loom."

"Eh, whatever. It looks like a great tool, but not quite complete. To hear the testimony directly could give you clues about their moral intentions. Things you wouldn't see unless you could read their thoughts."

No, she had no way of reading their mind. Not her, at least. There were Gods who could do it, but none was available in the Underworld and none of them would have been interested in helping her. They had to do it the old way.

"I tried to question them" Persephone admitted, distraught, "but for one reason or another no one can cooperate. Alexios is too young, he doesn't know what happened and he can't put his ideas in chronological order. His father is in Tartarus and is off-limits. And Eurydice... well, she took a vow of silence."

Caterina frowned.

"Vow of silence?"

"Yes, until her boyfriend, Orpheus, joins her. I’ve been at her home in Dis, but she sits still in front of a window and doesn’t talk at all."

"What a bitch. Didn’t you say she wants to help the child?"

But Persephone hurried to defend her:

"I don't think she does it on purpose, you know? Souls are strange, they’re not like living people. They don’t understand time and they can’t... make new thoughts. They’re blocked. Eurydice has taken it worse than others, but it’s common."

Caterina nodded, pursing her lips and sipping more tea. She never said whether she believed that human destiny or not. But she had certainly agreed to presume the truth of Persephone's statements about Erebus, so she never brought her skeptical atheism on the surface and always acted as if the case was pure gold.

She was a wonderful and very intelligent friend. It was clear why Anubis wanted her in his collection.

"Ok, no questioning, then."

"Not to the dead ones."

"Of course. You could interrogate that Pirithous. Where did you say he is?"

"I didn't say it. He’s just… roaming around raping other non-consenting women, I suppose. Son of Zeus, sure he stands out."

Caterina frowned. She seemed to be meditating very strongly, staring at the Nile with her eyes squeezed behind her sunglasses, annoyed by the light.

"We have two afterlife Gods available, we could go, look for him and scare the shit out of him."

Persephone laughed. She sat down beside her, stole some tea from her straw.

"That's not how it works. Hades believes in neutrality, he’d never interfere with a living human."

"Anubis isn’t so finicky. I bet if I _prayed_ to him to do so, he’d dash to tear Pirithous apart, bringing us back his bones already digested."

They laughed together and, when the hilarity had subsided, they returned to independent reasoning. They were silent for a long time. Caterina sighed, concentrated.

"Well, let's try to do with the material we have" she finally proposed, "we only have this Telematic Loom, let's exploit it until it breaks. Are you sure you've analyzed everything?"

Persephone shrugged. She had done her best, really, but hers was only one mind: another could give unexpected cues.

"I did everything that came to mind. I checked that Eurydice really jumped in the street. If she had been pushed it would’ve been three murders against Pirithous and the father’s punishment would’ve been reduced, but no... she went there herself, she didn't notice the sidewalk and she stumbled. Then I checked that the father was really distracted, and he was. I also checked if there wasn’t somehow an external factor, the road, or a malfunction of the van... nothing."

"And the phone? Have you checked it?"

Persephone nodded.

"That of the father? Yes. He was sending a text."

"What did it say?"

Persephone had to pull out her own phone, where her documents were. She scanned the notes and found it.

"He was sending a message to his wife. _On my way, I love you._ Nothing special."

"You could check why he was writing it."

"What do you mean why? Why do people say _I love you_?" the Goddess asked, sarcastically.

But Caterina was stoic and serious, professional. Persephone was sure that Hades would’ve liked her as an employee if she hadn't been still alive.

"I mean a causal reason. Of course, he was writing it because he loved her, but why did he have to write it right then? Have you checked the previous messages?"

"There are none. It was the first message he had sent her in three days. The previous ones are not seen."

Caterina nodded.

"So, go backwards. You have the Telematic Loom, you’re a Goddess, dig deeper. It could be an important message, I don't know... maybe it was forgivable that he was distracted."

Persephone thought about it and had to agree. She didn’t hope for it very much, in all honesty, but it would’ve been a good track if it had some evidences. Perhaps not enough to exonerate the man in the eyes of Hades, but it could reduce his penalty.

"Hey, do you want to check it with me?" Persephone proposed, "I have the app, we could dig deeper together. If it doesn't make you uncomfortable."

Caterina thought for a while. Finally, he nodded.

"All right. All right, let's look. If you promise me I won't be damned forever, or anything like that."

But no, she wouldn’t have been damned forever. As Hades had said, they were _their_ Mysteries, and if it Persephone authorized her, then everyone should’ve been fine with that. And it was strange for Persephone to think of such a thing. She would never have thought such a thing a few months earlier, yet now it was so easy... she had changed. Something was happening: she didn't know how and how serious, but there was a big deal going on.

Again, she tried not to think about it. She showed the Telloom app to Cate and illustrated how it worked, being careful not to show any future lines, not even by mistake. It took a while to make her understand. In the eyes of a human it was a little too much to bear. But she made it and, almost immediately, she tried to laugh at it:

"I hope you didn’t check my future with this crap, eh?"

Persephone shrugged.

"Well, not your future."

"What do you mean? Have you checked anything else?"

Persephone chuckled, guilty.

"I didn't see anything inconvenient, I swear! I just looked at the whole thread to see what the program was like!"

But Caterina worried anyway. She straightened up on the deck chair, bringing her legs to both sides and suddenly putting the tea on the table. Vengeful, she announced that she wanted to see Persephone's thread, to be even.

"My thread? I don't even know if I have one." The Goddess joked.

But Caterina narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at her.

"Let me see your fucking thread or I swear I’ll convert to your Pantheon, so I can haunt you for eternity after death."

It was a pretty cruel threat and eventually, unable to resist Cate's resentful fiddling, Persephone had to surrender. She took out her smartphone, sat next to her friend and typed her own name in the search textbox.

Well, good news: she actually hada thread and a profile. She clicked on it, while Cate incited her spitefully. When it opened, an updated picture of her appeared, together with the stylized representation of a vital line. It was white. Each person had a different color, in fact, and Caterina’s line was of a beautiful bright green: in this way, when looking at the entire pattern with all its knots, one could distinguish the different threads well.

Caterina enjoyed browsing in that _blasphemous_ way _._ After that, she forced Persephone to enlarge the vital line and look at some specific event.

"No!" Persephone tried to refuse, laughing embarrassed, "I didn't open your line, I just saw the profile!"

"Come on, why so shy? What could I ever see? Maybe, when Hades deflowered you. Got it? De _flowered_."

She laughed rudely about her own joke and it was so bad that even the Goddess had to hold back tears of laughter. Cate tried to take advantage of her weakness to open some knots at random, but Persephone ran off with her phone, her stomach and cheeks aching.

"Cate, be careful!" She warned her, "I have unlimited access to this app, unlike you. I could go looking for what you did in these days with Anubis."

Cate opened her eyelids and even the freckles seemed to dilate.

"Don't you dare!"

"I'm really curious to know if you slept together, how many you were in the room, and even if you agreed to something _indecorous_ with a reproductive system presumably _not entirely human_..."

Cate chuckled shyly. She gritted her teeth and hissed.

" _Touché_ , bitch. All right, no dirty stuff. But we could see when we met, how about that?"

Well, that yes. They decided to look only at events they had in common, signing an oral contract with a handshake. Then, they ventured.

And there it happened.

Cate and Persephone had known each other for a long time. They had become close friends after high school graduation, but they had always frequented the same environments because they lived in the same neighborhood. They had therefore met as children, in kindergarten, and Persephone had to go and look at her own childhood. And there she saw something.

 _A knot_. A knot more evident than the others, on her own thread. A more contrasting cross, black on white.

Persephone didn't open it and didn't see what it was, she didn't read, she didn't know anything because she hadn't clicked on it. Equally, however, she had a strange feeling, and so she stopped. She was shocked, her finger stuck, her face waxy.

"Kore?" Cate asked, worried, "Kore, what is it? Something wrong?"

"I don't know... that knot..."

She pointed it out, but Cate didn't understand the problem. She shrugged indifferently.

"It's a knot like the others."

"It's black."

That even didn’t seem important to Cate. It was normal: there were knots of all colors, what did it matter that there was a cross with a black thread? And yet, the more Persephone looked at it, the more she felt attracted to it.

No, it wasn't a thread like the others.

It was _his._

It was _Hades’_ thread _._

She blinked, tried to figure out why that belief was increasing in her mind and why it bothered her so much. She tried to tell Cate, but she, again, didn't help in her pragmatism.

"Well, so what? Hades met you as a child, what's wrong with that? He’s still your uncle, maybe you’ve seen each other at a family reunion."

"I can’t remember."

"You can't remember everything."

"I know, but…"

But, but... she had a weird feeling. As had happened with Alexios, she felt that something was wrong, _by instinct_. She didn't have a bad feeling about it, not as if something tragic had happened, but anyway... why hadn't Hades ever talked about it? Maybe he too couldn’t remember?

Possible. But improbable, knowing him.

Persephone swallowed. The whole problem of the title of Queen began to swirl in her head again, and she couldn’t understand what the hell it had to do with the thread. Still, the mind crowded with those disconnected thoughts, and she felt almost dizzy.

She put a hand on her forehead, fatigued.

" _The conference wasn’t our first meeting._ "

Somehow it troubled her a lot. Cate put her hand on her back and rubbed it.

"Kore, why does it matter so much?"

"I don’t know."

"Well, then open it. Click on it, so you can see what happened."

Persephone gasped a little. She remained undecided about what to do, with her thumb in midair, touching the display. In the end, however, she didn't make it.

She put her phone in lock screen. She didn't want to see.

"No, sorry. I want to talk to him first."

He had anticipated.

Hades had anticipated something, Persephone was sure of that. She didn't know what, she didn't know how serious it was, but she was sure he was certain of something that was going to happen. That was why he had called her _my Queen._ To appease her, perhaps? And why, was there anything to be angry about?

The Goddess didn't know. She didn't know anything at the time, she just knew she had to know. So she had gone to Hades, convinced to talk to him, but then... then she had seen him calm as usual and she hadn't been able to ask him everything as she would’ve liked. Even then, she didn't know why. Maybe she was afraid of ruining something between them.

But there was an elephant in the room and sooner or later they would’ve had to face it. Persephone decided to wait at least to return to Erebus and resume daily life, for the good of them all.

First, in fact, they had to solve the Air Bus case.

Although Hades had been silent for all those days on the matter, it was clear that he had never stopped thinking about it. Especially after the consultation he had asked Persephone, he seemed concentrated and undecided.

In the end, he tackled the matter one evening at dinner, so lapidary as to suggest that his decision had been taken careless, all of a sudden. But everyone, especially Anubis and Persephone, knew that it was the result of weeks of speculation.

He said, in fact, out of nowhere:

"Anubis, do you _love_ that woman's soul?"

The jackal was stunned, as if he didn't know which soul he was referring to. Then he had to understand that Hades was talking about the Air Bus woman, the one who had prayed to him.

"I love her with a boundless love."

"Carnal?"

Anubis lifted his dark shoulders and brought his ears back, amused.

"I’d say no, but you wouldn't believe me. She’s old and wrinkled like a sandal, can’t say she turns me on."

Hades remained silent. He meditated again, as if all the time he had taken since then hadn’t been enough. Finally, he did what no one expected:

"All right, you can keep her. I want the others."

Anubis widened his eyes, Persephone with him: the greediest Cronid of all, the one who had as his sole far-sighted plan to get _everything,_ had surrendered. He had allowed another God to take a soul he believed to be his own, just to do a favor to a friend.

That was the moment when it was officially clear to everyone that Hades had changed, perhaps it was clear even to himself. He had changed a lot for love and that was his way of showing it. While Persephone, next to him, still wondered why, why she had ever looked at that stupid frame and that stupid knot.

Finally they returned in Erebus. They had to leave a couple of days later, much to Anubis’ regret, who hated to see the guests leave. Persephone wasn’t in a good mood, too, because she would’ve missed Caterina’s company. It was a hard departure for everyone.

When the drivers and valets had loaded the luggage in the car, Anubis and his concubines gathered at the entrance, all sad. The cats offered them gifts: dates and other foodstuffs. Then, just as the guests were about to leave, Anubis called Caterina back, with a wave of his hand.

He made her approach, alone, and as soon as they were next to each other he put his arm around her neck. He talked to her in her ear, softly and without being heard by anyone. He said something that seemed rather long and finally broke away. He gave her a brief bow and offered her a personal gift, something that from a distance looked like a jewelry box. Caterina started to open it, but Anubis stopped her and pointed to the car, perhaps telling her to open it later.

The girl returned to the vehicle and finally they left. He She had a frowning look, lost, while Persephone was looking at her, sitting on the opposite sofa. The Goddess pointed at the gift:

"What is it? Can we see it or is it dirty stuff?” She tried to joke.

Caterina smiled, but too softly. Persephone wondered what Anubis had ever told her when he had called her back.

In the end, the girl opened the small box: she untied the golden ribbon and raised the cover. For a moment, she was dazzled.

"Earrings." She said, laconically, turning the box and showing them to the others.

There were two golden earrings inside. They were simple, really sober, especially if Anubis himself had chosen them: they represented two tiny _ankhs._

"The looped cross is his favorite symbol" Hades said, mild, "he wished you a long life."

Rare, for a God of the dead.

Caterina smiled, still with that look lost elsewhere, not really present. Persephone worried.

"Hey, what's up? What did he tell you?"

But Cate sighed and shrugged.

"Nothing. I didn’t get it."

At the time, Persephone didn’t insist, because she knew Cate: she was as foul-mouthed and open about certain things, as shy and reserved about many others. The Goddess left her alone, and from then on the journey proceeded normally.

It took many years to reveal the words of Anubis, whispered in the ear of Caterina, in Luxor, on a day of the year 2020. He had muttered not just a declaration of love, as Hades and Persephone had thought. He had given her a prophecy, which Caterina remembered for life. A prophecy that became useful only on the day of her death, sixty-eight years old, caused by an inoperable cervical cancer. She still had those earrings. 

After a whole life of platonic connection, the jackal God was at her bedside as she died, as an old friend; he was imploring her to pray to him only once, so he could take her to his Underworld.

But she hadn’t prayed.

Faithful to nothing but her own skepticism.

And the prophecy of Anubis himself, the one whispered in her ear in Luxor, year 2020, had ended up coming true. Because he had said, " _the day will come, when Gods will pray to humans to pray; and then you'll be Goddess and I’ll be slave."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anubis can be the most silly and the most deep at the same time, don't you agree?  
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter! From here on, there will be... PROBLEMS. We are in the final part of the book already, I can't believe it!  
> Before you leave, just a couple of explanations about the plot/additional stories that will be published in the future:  
> 1 - I know Alexios' case is dilated in the whole story, which is taking long to be fully translated; so if you need to refresh your memory, the previous important chapters about this part of the plot were number 14 (Dura lex) and 21 (A King on his knees).   
> 2 - This chapters closes Caterina and Anubis' part. As I said, they have a whole book for themselves, and I'll translate it after "The judgment of Persephone". That spin-off starts from this visit in Luxor and will talk about their strange relationship in the future, as well as the final prophecy. So... stay tuned! They'll be back!  
> 3 - Announcement: I've written a one shot about my versions of Hades and Persephone if they were in their original historical period: ancient Greece. A sort of "what if", mantaining the characters as they are, which talks about women's position back then and also male "not-so-funny-position-if-you-were-shy". I'll probably translate that too, but I still don't know if I'll publish it in this story or as a single piece. I'll keep you updated!   
> Thank you for reading and until next time! *.*


	30. Queen in purple

In the following centuries, it would’ve often happened that someone curious asked Persephone if it had been difficult to adapt to Erebus. They would’ve asked her if she had missed the sun for the first few months, if it had been a problem to adapt to the cold climate, if it had been difficult to align with the static melancholy of the souls who lived there.

Persephone would’ve always said no.

No, it hadn't been difficult. It had been strange, impetuous, an experience out of all human understanding. But not difficult. Because, underneath, she had always had something, a small seed inside her that bound her to darkness as much as to light.

And then the curious ones, after that answer, would’ve asked her if , at least, there had been a period that the Goddess remembered as more difficult than the others.

To that Persephone replied yes. But it hadn't been her first weeks as an intern, or the first months of relationship with Hades. No: her worst period, the one in which she really thought of leaving, giving up everything, the one in which she couldn't understand what was around her or what was happening in the universe, was that short period of time between Luxor and the end of everything.

A dark time. Short, but Persephone would’ve remembered it forever as the most troubled. Her tension originated above all from work, since skinny and skeletal souls crowded the court more than usual, due to the terrible and stubborn punishment of Demeter. They were so many, roaming around like so many dry leaves without will, carrying in the body the clear signs of starving. And the children... thousands. Persephone had never seen as many of them as in that period and would’ve learned soon that it was always like this during wars or natural disasters. The most unfortunate were always the younger ones, and the amount of small shadows never born was impossible to count. These were only floating lights, which didn’t even cross the court and went directly into the waters of the Lethe, in procession.

All that, of course troubled the workers, too. The judges, both minors and elders, were stressed. Hades was no exception. He managed things very well, he was able to maintain an impeccable order even with overcrowding. He apparently wasn’t touched by the abundance of young souls, while Persephone on the contrary suffered deeply and often: when she was in her office, when she worked with Hades, and even in her spare time when she looked out on the terrace over the Elysian Fields and saw them so populated, the Lethe so shining.

Because of the stress, the responsibilities, the stupid question of the knot and that title of Queen he had whispered, Hades and Persephone barely talked to each other: words were rare between them, arid as dried seedlings in a desert of cracked soil. They weren’t angry, but they certainly were hiding many unspoken things. But Hades could stand the silence, he had been doing it all his life... Persephone, on the contrary, wasn’t so used to it, she didn't like secrets. At that time Hades seemed to have several. The Goddess was always looking at him during the hearings, working in his office, or sleeping at night, but she didn’t dare say anything.

And he knew it.

He looked back at her until she was the first to look away. He stared at her without saying anything, with an accusatory, yet curious, intransigent yet affectionate look. He seemed to wonder, in his silence, why Persephone wasn’t expressing her doubts.

_Why don't you talk, Spring?_

He seemed to say in his mind.

_Why don't you just ask? What are you afraid of, little girl?_

Persephone didn’t know. She only knew she was very afraid, yes. She was afraid to hear something that she wouldn’t have liked. Or perhaps, even more, she was afraid of receiving a proposal. A request that sooner or later would’ve arrived, that Hades had kept quiescent inside himself for days, weeks, months.

Maybe for years.

Sometimes, Hades liked to sit on the throne with nothing to do.

Outside the working hours, the empty court, the seats of the three judges abandoned, the light almost absent except for the diamonds glimmering through the glass ceiling. He sat there, motionless like a corpse, wrapped in his dark chiton, thinking about Mysteries he never talked about. Like that night at the end of March, near the end of the internship, which for everyone had represented a sort of excuse to justify Persephone's staying in Erebus. An excuse that was no longer available.

The Goddess herself was aware of it, she knew she had to clarify things with him and also with her mother, and then she had trouble sleeping. She usually lay down for a few hours, slipping into restless dreams, waking up often in the middle of the night. 

That evening one of her awakenings had been more shocking than others, because she hadn’t found her partner in their bed. Then she went out looking for him and found him impassive, sitting on his throne, staring at the empty hall.

The Goddess sighed as soon as she noticed that his pale irises had stopped on her. Hades hadn't turned the rest of his head, but he had noticed her presence, and they both knew they were wandering around the building for the same reason. Then Persephone moved to the center of the room, shrugging her shoulders in her light dressing gown.

They stared at each other for a long while, Hades at the top, sitting austere as he was all day, every day; and Persephone on the ground, standing by the bench, waiting. Hoping he was the first to speak.

And he was.

Incredible, considering it was completely against his nature. But the God was also a loving companion and maybe those days of detachment were getting too pressing for him, too. So he said something, too subtly. He was trying not to disturb the court, but what he said nevertheless reverberated in the vast environment: the nymph Echo replied to his words with the same words.

"There are husbands, out there, who would give their lives to silence their wives. I would give mine to hear you speak."

Persephone shrugged more and became small, with a shy and melancholy smile. She didn’t pay too much attention to the fact that he always spoke of wives and husbands, as if they were as well. Meanwhile, Hades lay down on the back of the throne and leaned his chin on his fist. An informal gesture he would’ve never done in front of anyone else in that room.

"I don't really feel like speaking these days. Sorry."

She wasn't angry. She wasn't even disappointed. Actually, she didn't even know what emotion she was feeling: she was just undecided, on all fronts.

"Um" the Inexorable complained, laconic, "it's not good if we’re both silent, Divine. These weren’t the terms of our deal. You’re the one who has to get words out of my mouth, not the other way around."

He managed to gift her with a quiet good humor. Shortly.

"I'm just confused. I don't like transition periods."

"But you’re the very essence of transition, Spring."

"I'm still not so sure of my Mysteries, then."

This had to hurt him, because Persephone saw him suddenly become plaster, as if he had been struck in the heart by a very painful arrow, not that of Eros.

The God sighed in distress, his immense chest expanding clear in the night and in the silence of that empty court. Without making the slightest noise, furtive as the poets and titles described him, he rose from the seat. The folds of the decorated chiton moved as if it were the first time in centuries. The dim light reflected on the darkness of his long and silky hair, on the fibula of his shoulder, on the spartan and metallic jewels with which he used to adorn his arms.

Once on his feet, he didn't move. He reached out and gestured for her to come closer. Persephone satisfied him, climbing the steps hesitant. She could almost feel the throne pushing her away, as if it was made of an opposite magnetism.

When she was up, Hades stepped away, pointing to her to sit down.

Persephone's eyes widened. He had never suggested such a thing before.

"No, I can’t…"

But the more Hades was silent, the more he was authoritative; in fact he said nothing. He stood still, staring at her with tightened eyebrows, the hump of his nose wrinkled. Quiet as the low tide, as powerful as the forces that move it.

When he was like that, there was no space for replying. It didn’t matter who he was looking at, anyone would’ve surrendered. He conveyed so much _certainty_ in his order that simply disobeying became unthinkable, as it was _obvious_ that the right thing to do was the one he was suggesting. A way of ruling that wasn’t just limited to impart orders: it consisted in transmitting them as if they were the only logical and sensible choice.

Persephone sat down, swallowing. She never took her eyes off his, because she wanted to show him that she could bear it. Over the months it had become easier, but not normal, and never would’ve been.

Finally, something came out of his cold, thin lips:

"If ever I had any doubts about your nature seeing you happy in the sun, really, they’re all gone. You look so glorious on that throne... I’d die to make you understand how much _certainty_ I’m feeling right now, Divine."

"Ah, don’t worry, I’m feeling that too."

"Not enough, apparently."

Persephone narrowed her eyes, sighed. She lowered her head a little and felt the cold penetrate her robe. It came from everywhere: from Erebus, from Hades, but also from the stone throne, which was so sharp it wounded the inside of her knees.

She felt like it was the most uncomfortable place in the universe. In every way possible.

"If it had just been about staying, it would’ve been fine. But you said that thing about the Queen and... I’m not ready, Hades. I can't handle this responsibility."

"You _must_ handle responsibility, this is our role in the universe. You’re a Goddess, no less than a Cronid. Sit straight."

The answer had come sharp, metallic like a blade stuck straight in the forehead. But his subsequent gestures didn’t match with his voice, because he did nothing but touch her chin with his fingers, delicate as if he were touching a flower: he made her lift her head, look straight ahead, towards the infinite courtroom.

"I would’ve loved to build this place with you from the beginning, believe me. I wouldn’t have wanted to steal a fertility Goddess from the surface" he murmured, now quietly, "but you decided to show yourself to this world too late, and I waited for you. You can’t even imagine how much this realm has suffered the lack of a Queen. How much _I_ suffered."

Persephone frowned. She wanted to look at him, but before she could do it, he moved to enter her field of vision: he was in front of her, going down a few steps to see her on an equal level. Or, maybe, to lower his authority. She was on the throne now, with a straight and rigid back, her arms heavy on the armrests, too distant from each other. And the Inexorable, for once, had to look upwards.

"The souls have fallen asleep quiet since you’re here, Persephone" he resumed, sincere, encouraging, "since you’re here, the souls have spilt less tears in this hall. Your mother’s war has suddenly become bearable, for you are here to remedy. The last thing humans think before they die is that, if there’s also Spring down here, it may not be such a terrifying place."

"But I've been here for just a few months..."

And she really meant it. Okay, she was ready to stay, but how could Hades expect everything to change overnight? Persephone couldn't even understand if he were being too hasty, or if she were the one stepping back out of fear.

"You’ve been here enough, Persephone. Look at yourself: you’re no longer a _kore_ dressing of white linen."

He reached out a hand and touched hers, leaning heavily on the armrest. He smiled. But Persephone didn’t smile back. Now that he had called her a _girl_ , he had made all doubts resurface, especially about the knot, the way they had known each other. It wasn’t Persephone's intention to be cold, but really, she couldn’t understand.

"Hades, do you have something to tell me?"

She asked him with the same sharp and pragmatic voice she had learned to use from him. It was perhaps the first time she had tested him so firmly. And Hades had noticed it, because he withdrew the hand. For a moment he backed away, lowered himself another step. He accepted that insinuation, expressed with divine severity, and for the first time in history the Inexorable seemed subject, not King.

"I have something to tell you, my Queen" he hissed rigorously, "only if you have something to ask me."

Both knew that the situation wouldn’t have been resolved that night, as much as both wanted it. Because Persephone wasn’t brave enough to sustain her own austerity and didn’t ask anything. She didn't say what worried her, and Hades didn't give her any reassurance.

The God smiled, bitterly. He turned. He went down the stairs. Even if he didn't speak, Persephone still heard his silent message: _if you don't have enough courage to ask me, it's not the right time for you to know._

The wheel.

What would men and Gods do if the Wheel didn’t exist? Everything would be motionless, nothing would progress. Mortals wouldn’t be mortal and wouldn’t become more ingenious with each passing generation, the Gods wouldn’t have anything to administer.

The Wheel thinks of everything. The Wheel makes history flow. And in Persephone’s life, it had decided that it was almost time to conclude. Or to start, depending on the point of view. That’s why in that period it seemed particularly committed to making things happen, moving destinies, waving threads, doing and undoing knots.

And in fact, a last external event was about to overturn all the fates again, this time through a mare letter. A small clear envelope made of parchment, which was placed by a domestic nymph on the breakfast table the morning after Hades and Persephone’s discussion.

Both of them, eating after an almost sleepless night, were immediately attracted by the envelope. By now it was rare even in Hades’s palace, so traditionalist, to receive paper mail: he usually communicated via e-mail, even with the other Gods.

They glanced at each other, forgetting their secrets for a moment. Hades put the coffee down and turned the letter over between his fingers a few times: there was no sender, but the wax seal with the symbol of Hermes (the winged Caduceus with the double snake) made them believe it came from Olympus.

Persephone straightened up in her chair, wiping her hands of the brioche crumbs and becoming interested. Hades, giving her an amused look, began to open the letter with skepticism, as if he had guessed what it was. In fact, he extracted something that made his nose curl in annoyance.

Persephone craned her neck and Hades was so gentle not to make her suffer too much, because he handed her the paper. And, as soon as she held it, she understood: it was an invitation.

Her eyes widened. The daffodils in her hair bloomed more vigorously, after being closed because of the troubled night.

"Oh, Hades! It's a Symposium!"

He chuckled behind the cup of coffee which he was sipping from.

"Hurray." He joked, marking his absent enthusiasm.

Persephone, for the first time since they had returned home from Luxor, spread a true, sincere, cheerful smile.

"There’s my name too! They remembered me!"

For that last particular, Hades was very happy: he honestly smiled as he sipped his coffee. Of course, he wasn’t enthusiastic about having to manage the events of the Olympians, even refusing them for him was a waste of time; but he was really proud that this time the official invitation was also for Persephone.

He shrugged his bare shoulders, not yet dressed for the day. What he said seemed to cost him a lot of effort.

"Do you want to go?"

"I'd love to!"

But, as it had arrived, her enthusiasm vanished. Persephone forced herself to behave as an adult. She placed the invitation on the table and turned serious.

"This isn’t the right time. Too many commitments down here. And then you hate Symposia."

"I hate them less than to see you so unhappy, Kore."

But Persephone remembered very well how bad he had felt in Luxor, unable to work. Going to a Symposium on Olympus would’ve meant going to Greece, staying away for at least a couple of days, and objectively it wasn't anyone's priority at the moment.

Hades suffered a lot and made no mystery of it, disapproving silently. Persephone knew she had become less enthusiastic, but she didn't do it on purpose. It was just that it seemed to her that everything was falling apart. And then, the Inexorable couldn’t expect her to behave as in the past months, now that he had become so pressing with the Queen thing.

They said nothing more, they just finished breakfast. When they had finished, Hades took the invitation, put it back in the envelope and brought it away, making it disappear.

The matter seemed closed. The day passed as usual and Persephone imagined the invitation card thrown in the garbage, or perhaps directly in the hot lava of the Phlagethon, destroyed to ashes.

She stayed in court all day, along with Hades to support him in the hearings. Not physically: she couldn’t and did not want to be on the central podium, so she stayed in the same place as usual, that of the interns. Her colleagues had left because the six months were over, leaving the Goddess alone. She was the only one to attend hearings in the middle of the courtroom, neither on the judges' side nor on the side of the souls. All that, because that Queen title hadn’t yet allowed her to understand what her real place in that hall was.

As she had said, she hated transition. Even though she knew that that stasis was mainly her fault.

That evening she returned tired and silent in their neighborhoods. Hades had stopped at the office and Persephone didn’t have enough strength to be too close to him. For a moment, as she entered their room, pushing aside the purple draperies, she thought of that secretary, Mentha. She was in a better mood, for sure, and her company had to be way more pleasing for the King.

The Goddess closed her eyes as she walked into the room, trying not to make herself even more hateful, to silence the bad feelings. She didn't want to be jealous, because she knew there was no reason. But every now and then, she couldn’t help it, and she started wondering if Hades missed his concubines or his previous lifestyle, at least as much as she missed hers.

Hades had been right. Finally, she was feeling it, that nostalgia he had foreseen and feared.

Persephone wondered how a stupid knot in could ruin everyone's mood. She wondered how it was possible that a single, minimal past event could make her so scared. And just as she wondered if it was right for her to stay in Erebus, if she hadn't been too hasty asking to live at court... at that very moment, something stopped the running train of her thoughts.

There was something on their bed.

Persephone approached, curious. It was on her side, lying flawlessly, without a single wrinkle: a dress.

It was long, very elegant and certainly very expensive. A modern evening dress, for a gala dinner, wonderful. Light and simple, with a patinated and fine organza skirt. It had only one shoulder strap, which once worn would have fallen over the back in a long trailing drape.

Persephone stopped to look at it, ecstatic and actually surprised that she liked it so much: in its cut and in the colors it was very different from the clothes she had worn on the surface and the ones she usually chose for herself. Yet, she adored it. She loved its regal yet essential look: it had no ornaments, except some diamonds on the shoulder. She loved that it didn't have too many garish decorations, that it was so... flat. And she especially loved the color. Black as Erebus, shaded in purple towards the bottom of the skirt. In the same color as the vineyards during autumn, as the curtains in the room, as the first peplum he had given her.

She smiled, spotting a note near the dress. Handwritten in elegant italics. Such a gallantry.

_For you, I would go to all the Symposia from here to the end of the world._

_Teach them how to wear purple, my love._

Persephone pressed her hands to her mouth, feeling tears pierce her eyes. She was so... happy. Suddenly, she felt stupid for thinking she had been wrong choosing to live with him. He was such a stubborn God, so impassive sometimes, but then he always knew how to amaze. And now he had called her _my love_ , a pet name that he had claimed was an understatement; but in the end he had written it on a piece of paper, so romantic and gallant as he was shy, unable to say it personally.

Persephone was grateful and also proud of him. She was moved because different people express emotions differently: she had always known that Hades would’ve never told her he loved her so blatantly, but on the other hand she hadn't even expected him to write it, just to make her happy. Especially, not in that dark days.

Persephone wiped away her tears and thought she had been too far away in those days. Then, she went to the desk, turned the note over and left a message in her turn. She placed it on his side of the bed, along with a purple narcissus:

_This time, don't forget the buttonhole, my love._

She left it there and disappeared, not to be present when he arrived. She stole the dress, thought of going to try it in one of the other rooms, waiting for her gift to reach the receiver.

She ran down the corridor, then, a smile on her face and in her heart pounding, fearing she could meet Hades with the crime evidence in her hands. And just in that precise moment, for the first time, she too felt in her bones that maybe it was _destiny._ Maybe Persephone and Hadese were meant to be together.

Maybe the Wheel wanted it and that knot, after all, meant nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in three days... I'm spoiling you hahahaha xD  
> Thank you for reading, as usual! *.*


	31. Not Persephone

"Oh, Divine Persephone. Nice dress."

These were Hades’ first impertinent and playful words, when Persephone met him outside their room, ready for the Symposium.

Persephone smiled defiantly, in her black and purple evening dress. She let him help her put on her coat, dark, long, with a high neck. She felt regal.

"Thanks, my King. But you wouldn't be so happy to see me wearing it, if you knew where it came from."

He played the game.

"You say? And where does it come from?"

"I really don't know, I found it on our bed. Must be a secret admirer. Someone who was so brave to call me _love_. It can't be you, right?"

Hades had now a bold and sinister grin, as he offered her his arm and they walked towards the courtyard, where the car was waiting for them.

"It must be someone very _human_ , Divine. As much as the beautiful lady who gave me this" he pointed to the purple narcissus in the buttonhole, "I suspect it was Mentha, I must _thank her_ one of these days."

At least he had the decency to accept the two small punches Persephone threw on his biceps, without complaining.

And so their second diplomatic surfacing had started, this time towards the Holy Land: Greece. Persephone had never been there and was anxious to discover it, to see Olympus, perhaps even Athens, if there had been time during the way back. Especially, she was eager to participate in her first Symposium, this time being able to boast an invitation with the seal of Hermes and her own name on it.

Since Hades had been so willing to accompanying her, with the dress and everything else, things between them seemed to have subsided. Not that they were ever disturbed, but Persephone had regained (or had set herself to regain) her good humor. She hadn’t forgotten the knot, which still intrigued her and frightened her in equal measure; she hadn’t even forgotten the title of Queen, but she had decided to think about it after the Symposium. It was her first official event, after all. She had dreamed about it before falling asleep all her life: now it was time and she wanted to enjoy it.

She was thinking about this while, in the car, she took a seat next to Hades and leaned her shoulder against his. And then the vehicle headed for the north-east tunnel. Persephone was convinced to spend a nice evening.

Unfortunately for her, the Wheel had different plans.

Persephone didn’t know it yet, but everything that could go wrong that night, would’ve gone wrong.

Olympus.

Nothing more than a mountain as there were a thousand others in the rippled Greek territory. It had never had anything special. In fact, it had never been the home of the Pantheon: even that was a myth invented by humans, kept alive in their imagination by the Gods since the dawn of time. And the mountain had always been a mass of bare, crumbly rock.

At least, until the Revelation.

After that, the Gods who were living on the surface didn’t need to hide anymore, for the first time in countless centuries. So, the first thing Zeus did, even before hurling thunderbolts as fireworks, was going up on Mount Olympus, placing a foot on a big stone and saying: _now, it’s time to restyle this shitty pile of rocks._

And he had done it.

He had claimed Olympus because, in his opinion and perhaps even rightly, if humans had attributed it to him for so many centuries, it was right to host his palace. So, he had put architects and workers at work, and they had built it new, from scratch. Unlike the residence of Hades, that of the Father of the Pantheon was not even twenty years old, but it shone a hundred times more.

Persephone didn’t even need to get there before she realized it was the gaudiest thing she had ever seen: it looked like a gold block. It was beautiful, fantastic, perfect, but it reflected Zeus’ character: it was impossible not to see it from miles away, it shouted arrogance from every corner. Oh, of course, even Hades’ palace was majestic, but overall the furnishings and atmosphere were infinitely more contained, more sober, despite the Inexorable being much richer than his brother. Gods, even Anubis was more sober! Zeus, on the other hand, no, he had never been sober.

They arrived from the main road and obtained access to the inner courtyard. The gate, however, was wide open, and journalists had been granted access. It was easy to see why: Zeus, as all the Olympians, loved mortals’ attentions, as much as Hades shunned them.

Persephone clenched in her coat, worried, as the car pulled up. She pursed her lips, suddenly afraid to go out. She peered out and saw them: angry humans; thin humans; humans who weren't there to gossip, or at least not all of them.

And here's the first thing that would’ve ruined the evening.

Persephone slumped on the seat, suddenly not so happy to be seen. Since Demeter's retaliation, they certainly didn't like her either. She was afraid of them, she couldn't deny it, even on a physical level.

"Kore, don't worry. They won't dare with me around."

Hades said it as if he had read her mind and, at the same time, took off his sunglasses: he would’ve come out the car without them. But in any case Persephone sighed, upset, because she didn't like depending on his protection.

"They hate me, don't they?"

"They hate your mother, and just for now. You’ll find out that humans are very changeable. It won’t be an eternal hatred, they’ll settle. Now think of your evening, okay?"

She replied that yes, it was okay, but it wasn't true. Maybe they just hated Demeter, maybe it wouldn't have been forever, but anyway now she was the one who had to deal with the crowd. And, in any case, Hades had taken off those glasses.

He didn't have to be very sure of his own words.

When she got out, the camera flashes blinded her. The situation reminded her of the charity auction, only on a much more majestic scale: there the red carpet wasn’t just a few small steps, it was a long way before reaching the entrance.

It was terrible.

Not in the violent way Persephone had feared, but still she felt the eyes of those mortals, their lenses, their cameras. No one offended her, no one screamed at her behind, but her empathy allowed her to feel it anyway: a black cloud covering the entire Olympus. Hunger, famine, crisis, discontent and other thousand negative feelings and calamities that were all there, that night, snaking through the common people and making Persephone feel worse than Cronus’ power had done in Tartarus.

And, as they passed by, humans still bowed. Yes. But they did it for the King. For Hades.

Hades. Not Persephone.

They bent to the ground, they carried both palms on the floor, a traditional procedure to address the God of the dead. Nothing in their gestures was for her.

Arriving inside the palace was too short a relief.

They had just enough time to cross the threshold, in fact, being blinded by the light furniture, the huge golden chandelier, and Zeus was there to welcome them. He was doing it with all the guests, showing off a white suit, matching the beard and hair, regal. At first sight he was well-behaved, as were all the ancients of the Classical Pantheon.

Even if he was well presentable in his gestures and manners, however, didn’t mean he was so in words. In fact, his gallantry seemed extraneous to him. It wasn’t natural as it was for Hades: Zeus had to struggle to seem a gentleman.

That is why he was kind in welcoming them, he even bowed his head a little, though he didn’t have to, hierarchically talking. But then, as soon as he opened his mouth, he appeared as the God too ruled by passion he really was:

"Brother, it’s a pleasure to have you here. I had long since lost any hope."

Hades sighed, patient, calm. He was with everyone and even more he knew how to be with a little brother. Although, perhaps because of the shaved beard and the less massive, thinner body, Hades seemed younger.

"Zeus, forgive me. Erebus is a commitment that gives no respite."

That was Hades’ true ability to be respectful without lying: he would’ve never admitted he avoided Symposia because he didn’t like Olympians, but neither he had told a lie on Erebus’ more pressing engagements. This was natural for him. But not for Zeus.

"I bet it was our Persephone to kick your ass."

Zeus smiled behind the thick, well-groomed beard, and finally turned his turquoise eyes towards the Goddess, because until that moment he hadn’t even looked at her. Hades would never have dared to greet another man first, even if it had been his brother. Persephone knew she was making too many comparisons, but it was inevitable seeing them next to each other.

They were even similar in some respects. Both shared an important nose and were tall. Both also had the same stiff way of standing, and clenched their jaws if they were nervous. Yet they were different in everything they transmitted.

They were the same yet different even in the way they bow and kiss a woman. Because Persephone, when Zeus did it to her, felt something she had never experienced with Hades: _danger_.

She tried to smile as Zeus kissed too deeply and too long, not in the indirect way that the real etiquette required. She felt a shudder of discomfort when, trying to regain her own hand, he held it back.

Just a second. A second full of disgust.

In the end, Zeus let go of her hand and straightening up. He was tall. Less than Hades, but more intimidating in his behavior, so much so that Persephone felt her neck stiffen. Instinctively, she stepped closer to Hades, until their bodies touched.

Evidently, it wasn’t just Persephone to feel discomfort; quickly, in fact, Hades' arm ran to hug her shoulders: unusual for him, which in public did everything possible not to show intimate effusions. Perhaps, to the Father of the Gods it seemed just an affectionate embrace, but Persephone could feel the stiffness of Hades’ muscles: he hadn’t liked Zeus’ hand kissing _. At all._

"We’re both flattered by your invitation" the God of the dead said, without showing his own nervousness, "and yes, Persephone was particularly curious to participate in her first Symposium. Now, please, lead us..."

Hades was trying in every way to cut short the meeting. But Zeus didn’t understand. Or, perhaps, he did, and in any case he didn’t care.

He smiled, walked in front of them as if to block them from the entrance. He pursed his lips a little and raised his eyebrows insinuatingly.

"Are you talking for her, now? What is it, our little flower has lost her tongue?"

Hades was offended, now. He didn't smile, not even to seem polite. Persephone saw his eyes become even darker than usual, his eyebrows creating frightening shadows.

"Women often lose their tongue when there’s you around, don’t they?"

"They get _struck_ by the bringer of the thunder, probably."

Persephone felt even more uncomfortable. She swallowed, pressed against Hades. Zeus usually laughed, he made jokes, yes, but it wasn’t easy to understand if he was aware of how threatening he sounded. Probably, he was well aware and enjoyed it.

But things could always get worse with him, and they got worse when he reached toward the Goddess and stroked her cheek, without even asking, without any regard to her liking. He did it in a heavy and annoying way, allusive and uncaring about the presence of Hades. As if Zeus thought everything was his own property, even another deity, even when she was the partner of his older brother.

Persephone was rigid. She couldn’t show any sign of annoyance if she didn’t want to attract Zeus’ anger. So, she stood still, looking at the floor, unable to breathe, feeling that warm, huge hand on the side of her face. So hot compared to the cold touch of Hades: she feared she could catch fire, not in a positive way.

She felt panic rising inside her and wondered why it had occurred to her to attend a Symposium. She had to stay in her place. Why? Why did she want to be on Olympus?

While she was drowning in all these thoughts, Hades' reaction was more blatant than the previous one: he stepped forward, stood between her and Zeus and forced him to break off contact.

"Zeus" he hissed, direct, " _enough_."

The Father of the Gods withdrew, still smiling. He raised his hands in surrender, as if it were all a game for him, as if there had just been a misunderstanding.

"Ehy, you're all so stiff, let it go! It's a party! I hoped that a woman's company would help you relax a little, but instead you hardened her."

He pointed his gaze to Persephone, referring perhaps to her attitude, perhaps to the dark dress, perhaps to the whole complex. Then, he stretched out his fingers and touched the narcissus in his brother's buttonhole, disgusted.

"She did manage to do something, though. Now you dress floral."

"I like it."

Hades said it with all the cold honesty he could, as if implicitly he was telling him never to criticize one of Persephone’s flower again. He was warning him not to dare on Mysteries he didn't know and that weren't his business.

From that moment, fortunately, Zeus decided to give them respite. Maybe he had done it on purpose. He seemed to have a sadistic pleasure in annoying his brother.

"Well, I’m sorry, I might be a little drunk tonight" he laughed, shrugged his shoulders, he didn't seem at all sincere, "Hera's fault, she's screaming and smoking since yesterday. Go ahead along the hallway, the others are already here. Except..." he broke off, frowned, "except your mother, Kore. Don't you know if she will come?"

Persephone broadened a tight smile and tried to look professional. Actually, she was sweating nervously under her coat. Being called Kore, as if they were close, had bothered he more than the ambiguous kiss.

"I'm sorry, no. She didn't tell me anything."

"Ah, here you are, finally. You have such a beautiful voice, don't hold it for yourself."

Persephone smiled again, but inside she wanted to scream. She would have liked to turn around and leave, run away like a Cinderella and never be seen again.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I'm nervous. It's all new to me."

"But, really, Demeter" he insisted on that topic so rudely that it was obvious it worried him, "I was hoping she would come, or at least... you would convince her."

Persephone shook her head, the narcissi she had in her updo hairstyle were now regressed to buds. She now had a terrible doubt: maybe, they hadn’t really invited her out of interest or kindness.

They had invited her for her mother.

"Was it so important that she was here?" She dared to ask, trying to sound as polite as possible.

Zeus nodded.

"She's still carrying on her stupid war, and mortals are urging me. I hoped to calm her down a bit. I was sure she would come if there was her daughter."

He didn't even try to keep it as a secret. Persephone wondered if he had noticed the knife he had just plunged into her heart without mercy.

Her mother. She was there to encourage her mother to participate.

Demeter. Not Persephone.

She closed her eyes, tried not to cry. Because her emotions always came out treacherous and arrogant, and she didn't want to seem weak in front of the King of Kings.

"I... I'm sorry, really. Next time I'll have her by my side."

"Good little girl" Persephone’s stomach revolted, "but don't worry now, what’s done is done. Please, go ahead and have fun."

Persephone didn’t wait any longer. Faster than Hades, she ran away, along the corridor. Hades was right behind her: he reached her and hugged her again, slowing her pace.

"Hey, calm down." He whispered, so quiet that Persephone felt her blood flow again, her legs suddenly becoming heavy.

She slowed her pace with him. Side by side, they tried to calm each other down. Hades breathed deeply, exaggerating his chest movements to suggest her to do the same. Persephone did it and it worked.

She leaned against him, exhausted.

"Do you want to go away?"

His quiet voice was a panacea after Zeus' slimy behavior. Even the fact that he didn't try to comfort her, paradoxically, was the best thing he could do. He offered a solution to the problem, directly, without beating around the bush.

"No. Fuck no! I deserved that invitation! If I leave now I'll just show them that I'm useless, that I'll never be like them."

He squeezed her more to comfort her.

"You’ll never be like them because you’ll be much more, Kore. Look at me" she raised her eyes and met his clear irises, "you’re the most Mysterious Goddess I’ve ever known and seen. But you don't have to prove it. I know, you know, Erebus knows. You don't need anything else, and definitely you don’t need my brother's approval."

He bent down to rest his forehead against hers, now that no one could see them, surrounded by the gaudy gold of the building. Persephone, heartened, smiled.

"No, really, I want to stay. You were right, this Symposium sucks, I don't know what I expected. Let’s try to enjoy it, just this time, then we go home. All right?"

Hades nodded and, even if he were disappointed that he couldn't leave early, he didn't show it. He was just happy that his partner was better.

He stroked her cheek, the same that Zeus had touched, and it almost felt like he was washing away the previous, obscene heat.

"All right, Divine. Now, please, reinvigorate these beautiful flowers, they don't deserve to be closed" he brushed her hair and immediately said something so out of his comfort-zone that Persephone thought she was dreaming "go and kick some other ass."

The Goddess burst out laughing, holding her mouth with both hands. That was the very first vaguely vulgar sentence she heard in the mouth of the Inexorable. And also the last one.

As already stated, everything that could go wrong that night went wrong.

First, the entrance, passing by the mortals. Then the first meeting with Zeus. And then, everything else went wrong. Perhaps it would’ve been a wise choice to leave, as Hades had suggested. But Persephone couldn’t know how much things actually had to degenerate.

She was unaware of it, while enjoying the enormous ballroom, sparkling like the sun. She spoke a few words with the other Gods, trying to overcome her shyness. Then, she met her aunt Hestia, a curvy and kind Goddess, the most virtuous and chaste Cronid. At that point, Hestia herself proposed to present Persephone to the group of Virgin Goddesses and she accepted; Hades, unfortunately, had to leave her, aware that he wasn’t welcome among the girls, talking about chastity or sapphic love. And so, finally, Persephone found herself on the other side of the hall, alone, in front of another group of Gods... and a man.

A mortal.

Persephone thought it was strange that there was a human. She recognized that man as a mortal immediately, by instinct. He couldn’t be a God: he did everything too _frantically_ compared to the Gods’ movements, well aware of the brevity of his life. He also seemed agitated: he was jumping one foot on the ground, holding his arms folded, not very welcoming.

"Gentlemen, this is Persephone, Goddess of flowering and spring. My niece.” Hestia introduced her, always pretty and polite as a loving mother.

In front of here, ready to be introduced, she actually had two Gods who didn't need introductions. The first one was Eros, the most attractive of the Olympians, who always smelled good; his shirt half-open as if he had just finished giving pleasure to some woman or some man, and the free attitude of those who embraced both their masculine and feminine side. Immediately next to him, there was Hermes, with the Caduceus as a brooch, the mischievous look and the shabby beard of those who are always traveling. And finally, it was time to meet that strange, agitated man. Middle-aged, rather tall; he had thick white hair, not at all touched by baldness. He resembled Zeus.

"Nice to meet you, cousin" he greeted Persephone, kissing her hand, "I’m Pirithous."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many good people at this party, eh?  
> Thanks for reading, until next time! *.*


	32. Crown of thorns

Pirithous.

That damn Pirithous.

That's why he resembled Zeus so much. He was thinner than Persephone had seen him in the Telematic Loom, with longer hair; but it was him, now she was sure.

Persephone stood rigid as he kissed her hand, if possible even more rudely than the Father of the Gods. The difference was that, this time, the Goddess snatched it away without any regard, she didn't care to seem impolite. Everyone was being impolite with her, after all; and certainly she had no hierarchical obligation in front of a mortal rapist, illegitimate and hybrid offspring of a God, who had no right to be invited at that fucking Symposium, not more than her at least.

But there he was.

There he was, and Persephone could now think to nothing other than her research, and the fact that she was doing her best to condemn that man to Tartarus even before he was dead.

"Cousin, nice to meet you. You really are beautiful as they say."

" _Cousin_ , seriously?"

It was a rhetorical question, and Persephone had said it with an outrageous tone she didn’t even believe she could express. Pirithous shrugged his shoulders, amused. He interpreted it as a genuine question. He resembled Zeus, yes. Way too much.

"Well, I’m the son of the Great!" He boasted, impudent, "You’re Demeter's daughter, his sister; so, you’re my cousin, Kore."

"It’s _Divine Persephone,_ please. And thank you for the _mansplaining_ on the degrees of kinship, but I have a hard time remembering all the _cousins_ my uncle spreads around the world. It’d be easier to identify the few mortals who cannot boast illegitimate ties with me, am I right?"

This time her anger was evident. Not only to Pirithous’, who immediately looked offended, but also to all the others. Hestia, unaware of Pirithous faults, looked at Persephone in disbelief.

"Kore, you sound very nervous. Are you okay?"

The young Goddess stared at Hestia, then at Eros and Hermes, both speechless.

"Yes, I’m fine. Sorry."

Still, she knew she didn't sound honest, because she wasn't.

She wasn’t fine at all. She was angry, disgusted, offended, almost unable to untangle all the negative emotions she was feeling. Then she turned, looked for Hades in the room and saw him talking to the old Hecate. She would’ve liked to have him at her side, but she didn't want to disturb him for Pirithous. He would’ve become upset too, it wasn’t a good idea.

Persephone turned back to the group and widened the fakest smile she had to simulate in her entire life. She had to stay calm, she knew. She couldn't make a scene.

"I’m sorry" she repeated, playing it a little cooler, "I have many thoughts on my mind."

"It won't be for Demi, will it?" Hestia asked, wrapping Persephone’s shoulders in a soft hug, "Don't worry, she’ll calm down soon. Spring is close, she too wants to let the good weather go."

"We all hope so" Eros broke in with a raised eyebrow and a sly, young expression, perhaps trying to dampen the situation, "hungry humans don’t make love, it’s so depressing. Rather, Persephone, let me gossip a little" he approached, offering her a glass of rosé wine, "how is it going with the Inexorable?"

Persephone smiled, this time more genuine. She knew Eros. Not deeply, but enough: she had already seen him around and, even if they weren't close, she knew how he was. When he was so intrusive, he wasn’t as pressing as Zeus, on the contrary: he just wanted to talk about something that interested him on a professional level. Those were his Mysteries, after all, it was his job. For this reason, his question didn’t bother her, she knew he had no ulterior motives. But she wasn't sure if he was talking about life in general or just the physical part.

She tried to remain vague, not to give too many hint of conversation to the other Gods: she knew they talked a lot, and she didn’t want Hades to be embarrassed by their gossip again.

"Oh, great, really!"

 _I love him more than my own Mysteries_ , she would’ve liked to say. But from the allusive way he smiled, Eros seemed to understand it anyway.

"Glad for you. Honestly, you’re a couple I couldn’t have imagined in my wildest dreams. And Hades, oh Gods… he has been always very careful not to get hit by my power. I seriously thought he was a lost cause."

Persephone drank from the glass, letting her tongue caress the sparkling taste of wine.

"I remember the joke you made on the night of the charity auction" she said, direct, "I assumed you two don't get along very well."

Eros smiled brightly and shrugged. He combed his blond hair back and, although he didn't have wings on display that day, some bright white feathers fell from him on the floor. From the pale pink shirt, open with three buttons, Persephone could see a well-shaved chest.

"No, no diatribes at all: pure and simple incompatibility of Mysteries. I thought he was incompatible even with yours, but apparently I was wrong. With you it’s different, he has something special. I’m happy for you."

And he really was. It was easy to tell from his quiet tone, his careless way of fixing his collar. And then, suddenly, he frowned a little. Like that, unexpectedly. He turned to Pirithous, smiled, and put his arms around him, taking him away.

"Now come with me, _cousin_ , I'll introduce you to someone else. The flower of the Underworld isn’t to be picked, believe me."

Persephone was speechless, still with the flute of rosé in her hand and her brows furrowed. She wondered what Eros meant, for a moment he almost seemed an accomplice of Pirithous. And instead, as he walked away with the mortal man, the God dispelled all her doubts: quick, he leaned toward her, gave her a worried look.

" _Stay away from him._ "

And suddenly Persephone realized that Eros had done it on purpose. He had talked about Hades to make Pirithous understand who she was with. He had taken him away because he was the God of carnal love, he knew everyone's instincts, and he had understood that Pirithous' were violent ones. They had been to Eurydice, to countless other women, and that evening they were to Persephone.

Zeus’ descendants had no middle ground: either they were phenomenal, or they were the worst plague in the world. It seemed they inherited or all his strengths, or all his faults. Athena was one of the good examples: upright, wise, powerful, proud as a Cronid, although she was second generation. Pirithous, well... like often had happened to Zeus’ male progeny, he had just inherited lust and little patience in getting relief from it.

Persephone sighed, immersed in chatter with Hestia and Hebe, a little girl that looked five years old at most: Goddess of youth, daughter of Hera and Zeus, blonde and destined to remain a naive child for all eternity. Together, the three Goddesses were walking around the buffet. Persephone tried to distract herself by nibbling at something. But after the meeting with Pirithous, and especially after that warning of Eros, her stomach had closed. She had the courage to eat only one pomegranate grain, from a tray in which there were many accumulated, without the rest of the fruit. She did it just to remember the taste of Erebus, which she missed as if she had been away for years. That was perhaps the only positive aspect of that evening: the rest of Olympus seemed so strange to her and it was suggesting that, perhaps, becoming Hades' wife was indeed a good idea, even though she was so afraid.

She looked back at him and missed him: he was on the other side of the room, because men and women seemed to have split up. It often happened at those events, Hestia had said. Perhaps because many of the virtuous Goddesses didn’t want to be courted, preferring each other's company.

For a fleeting moment, Persephone met Hades’ dark eyes: from afar they looked like two almonds set in his pale face. She found him bored. He smiled at her, Persephone smiled back, before they were both taken apart by other guests. Hades, in particular, lost himself talking to Poseidon, his favorite brother. Together they stood out above the others, and that evening in particular Persephone envied their size. She shouldn't have worried about Pirithous, if she had been tall and strong like them, or even just like her mother.

She sighed, ate another pomegranate grain to calm herself. Unbelievable: she was outside, she was on the surface, on Olympus, she had the most sumptuous dishes known in history available, and she still was eating pomegranate.

Erebus had really changed her.

Then, suddenly, Hebe intruded on her nostalgic thoughts.

"I need to go to the toilet."

Well, she had ingurgitated two cups of Greek yoghurt with honey, it was more than understandable that she had to evacuate. Both Persephone and Hestia looked down at her and realized that her statement was nothing less than a request for someone to accompany her.

Hestia raised her head and looked for Hera, Hebe’s mother, but saw her with Aphrodite intent on smoking like a chimney and saying something bad to someone (and that someone had to be Zeus, judging by her hostile look). The Queen of the Gods didn’t seem at all in a good mood and disturbing her at that moment would’ve meant making her explode.

Persephone and Hestia looked at each other and then again at Hebe, who now was jumping with impatience with her plump little legs. Hestia was the Goddess of the domestic hearth, her maternal instinct was second only to her prosperous size, so it didn’t take her half a second to propose a group trip to the restroom.

"All right, I'll take you. Can you help me, Kore?"

Persephone glanced at the room. She saw Pirithous far away, still held back by Eros' chatter. Hades even further, unperturbed. Everything was fine.

"Sure, let's go. At least we take you away from that yoghurt, eh, mousy?"

She patted her cheek and Hebe giggled. Her own laughter had to put her containment skills to the test even more, because she started to hop in the hallway, in a hurry.

"Hebe, honey, you have to push."

"I'm pushing!"

"With your belly, not with your feet."

Persephone laughed, hearing the speeches coming from the nearby bathroom. The door was open and Hestia was squatting on the ground, turned inward, to help Hebe in her bodily needs. It had to be one of the first times Hebe ate and activated her intestine, because she didn’t seem to understand the process of expulsion.

Persephone had remained in the anteroom, a finely furnished area, with marble sinks, gilded taps and wooden armchairs upholstered with Greek-style fabrics, near the windows overlooking the side of Mount Olympus. More than a bathroom, it looked like a study with an attached toilet. Zeus' ideas of interior designwere rather unique.

Suddenly, while Persephone was checking the makeup in the mirror, came the unmistakable sound of Hebe freeing herself of a great mass.

"She did it!"

"I did it!"

There was now a big party inside the bathroom, and joyful laughter for that little big result. Persephone leaned into the cubicle to celebrate with them: Hestia had already taught the kid how to clean herself and was now helping her get dressed.

"Very good, mousy! Now you just have to do it once a day for all eternity, are you happy?"

" _What?_ "

She was rightly scandalized. Persephone nodded with a fake sad look.

"Only if you keep eating. But I’ve seen you’re like me, you like food very much. I don't think you'll stop."

Hestia, smiling, put an end to that moment, announcing it was time to return to the main hall. Although, it seemed, she didn’t seem so happy about it. But not for the same reasons as Hades or Persephone: she didn't like parties because she was more of a housewife, she was never at ease when things started to get hectic. And it was already happening that night, because just as they were heading to the bathroom, Dionysus was starting to pour some more wine in everyone’s glasses.

Then, as they were about to leave, both Hestia and Persephone hand in hand with Hebe, it happened.

The door swung open, just as they were about to get out. The movement was so violent that the door almost hit Hestia, astonished, shocked by so much impetuosity. She was about to protest, especially since Hebe was scared, but stopped immediately when she saw who had entered.

Pirithous.

Persephone entered a state of brief yet intense catatonia.

The first thing that came to her when she saw the man's face wasn’t the sense of danger, but that of disbelief: it was impossible that everything was falling off so blatantly that evening. Why? Why did the Wheel hate her so much?

She snorted, knowing he couldn't be there by accident. Honestly? She wasn't even scared anymore. She was just angry.

He was drunk, obvious. He stumbled, holding on to the door handle. He took a step forward and closed the door, blocking it with his back. Hestia, with Hebe, took a step back.

" _Cousin_ " Persephone began, exasperated, "you’re in the wrong room, I'm afraid."

"No, you are in the wrong fucking room!"

Hestia embodied the purest feminine spirit and instinct. She was a peaceful Goddess, incapable of committing violence, but very adept at recognizing it. Her first reaction, in fact, was to retreat, keeping Hebe close to her leg. Persephone saw her swallow with fear: even though she was an immense woman, even if Pirithous wouldn’t have had the slightest chance of overcoming her, she had the same fear in her eyes as a wounded pray.

Persephone knew she wouldn’t have reacted, except to protect Hebe. She probably wouldn't even have talked. Persephone had to do it for both.

"Pirithous, sorry, we didn't want to offend you" she tried to sedate him, "let us out, we have to go back to the hall. My husband must be wondering where I am."

She called him husband, and in that dangerous situation it sounded natural. It sounded right.

"No. You won't go anywhere."

Persephone tightened her lips. That man had no more social filters by now, but he wasn’t so drunk not to know what he was doing. He was just a horrible man. Inside and out, wine or not.

"Let Hebe out, at least. She’s a child. I’m sure Zeus wouldn’t tolerate an attack on his legitimate daughter, in his home, by one of his guests."

To demonstrate that he wasn’t so drunk as to be unaware of his actions, Pirithous stepped away from the door, with a sordid and obscene smile. He opened it.

Hestia hesitated for a moment, giving Persephone a look full of anxiety. She was apologizing for not being more combative, but Persephone signaled her to leave. It was more important to take Hebe away. Then she could warn someone, it didn't matter that she acted like a heroin. She wasn’t Artemis, nor Athena, and that was fine.

So, Hestia went out, pushing away the petrified child.

Persephone and Pirithous were left alone.

As soon as they were alone, Pirithous laughed vulgarly, spreading the collar of his shirt and undoing the knot of his tie. He leaned forward disparagingly, then pointed a finger at her, his eyes bloodshot.

"You offended me."

Persephone tried not to retreat, even though the instinct to do it was strong: she didn’t’ want to give him the satisfaction of feeling like a predator. She was a Goddess. She might physically seem to be his equal, perhaps, but she wasn’t.

For the first time, she felt _proud_ of her nature _._

"How did I offend you?"

"I didn't do anything to you " he stepped forward, uncertain, Persephone remained where she was, "I just wanted to be nice and you said in front of everyone that I'm _illegitimate_!"

"Aren't you? Okay, then I'll explain to you some degrees of kinship" Persephone felt in herself the same firmness as Hades, Demeter, the Cronids, and she was proud of it, "You're Zeus’ son, not Hera’s. You're not even a God. So, step back, let me out, and I’ll forget this affront… among many others."

He raised his eyebrows, pretending to be entertained.

"Among many others?"

"Let's just say that you’re prone to offending women in turn, and not just with words. Have you already forgotten Eurydice?"

"Oh, you know the whore!"

Persephone felt anger boiling somewhere deep in her soul, a kind of rage she wasn’t used to. _Fury._ She had never felt it, she had never felt so much disgust for a single person. She didn’t even consider him a person, actually. A worm. A mortal worm.

She knew that something was charging inside her, a power that had never been so strong, while in her hair the purple flowers had withered, giving way to thorny brambles. For the first time, she didn’t feel the need to be an immense Cronid, because that wasn’t the true strength of a Goddess. Suddenly, she also understood why Hades did everything possible not to get angry.

_She felt dangerous._

_And she liked it._

"I know her, yes" she answered through gritted teeth, aware that Pirithous was now the one in danger, "I know the immortal part of her. Because, you know, her body was squashed between a van and a wall because of you."

She had to stop, maybe. But she couldn't. She could only think of how horrible the man in front of her was; and idiot, too: he had been so stupid threatening her in a bathroom. Had it been only a few months before, perhaps, she would’ve stepped aside and begged him to leave her alone. But not now. Because she was Persephone, not Kore: she wasn’t just protecting herself, she was protecting all the women she now felt a matron of, those he had assaulted in the past, and those who would’ve been assaulted in the future.

He approached menacingly. He held a hand outstretched in a mocking way and, spirited, stared at her as she was an animal to be mounted, to be punished. Persephone knew it, felt it in his obscene manners, in his desire for revenge and violent testosterone demonstration. She wouldn’t have allowed him even for a second to feel superior to her.

"Go away, _mortal_ " that was the first time she called a human like this, "this is the last warning. I'm not here to have revenge, but you have to stand aside."

But if he had been a reasonable man, he wouldn't even have brought Eurydice to death and wouldn't have been there to discuss it. In fact, he wasn’t reasonable even in that situation.

He attacked her.

Persephone wasn’0t a Goddess with particular powers concerning physical strength, and never would’ve been. So, the impact was terrible for her as it would’ve been for a human.

She found herself against the wall, Pirithous was pushing her with all his body.

That worm was pressed against her. The disgust she felt was such that she thought she had to vomit.

But she didn't, because the adrenaline was so great, and so much anger kept her alert.

"Let me go!"

But he didn't. He grabbed her head and slammed it against the wall.

He was strong. Mortal, but he had inherited something of Zeus.

Persephone felt her head almost cracking for the impact, just above the nape of her neck, while something warm began to flow down her spine. Maybe he had hurt her.

He barked something that Persephone didn’t understand and, immediately afterwards, she felt his hands everywhere. On the thighs, on the breasts, between the legs, on the neck to close her airway and keep her it still. His tongue made its way, somehow, onto her face and into her mouth as she kept her eyes shut and _prepared herself._

There is a moment when everyone crosses to the other side.

There is a moment when the balance breaks, and what seemed bearable before suddenly becomes too much.

_Too much._

For Persephone, it was too much to feel his erection against her side.

She felt she couldn’t cope any more: the anger accumulated that night and all the previous nights while she was studying the aberrations of her attacker was suddenly overflowing. She felt it was no longer her choice either. She felt she could no longer stop.

There was a crash. Something that not even Pirithous was prepared for and that stopped him, petrified. The scream Persephone had sent out was so powerful that it could be heard as far as the Underworld, the sea, and all the rest of creation.

And immediately she was free. Pirithous backed away, finally realizing who was in front of him.

He staggered as he retreated: Persephone pushed him away with the sole strength of her gaze, of _will._ Until he hit the back of his knees against one of the armchairs and fell into it, sitting, terrified.

Persephone looked at him. She pitied him.

She had nothing to say to him, but one thing, and only for her own sadistic taste of seeing him tremble.

" _Good luck getting up from there._ "

As soon as she said it, the wood of the chair came alive. Because it was the Spring Goddess who ordered it, and it obeyed.

New branches were born from the armrests, from the back, from the wooden legs in a leonine form. They were born from lacquered wood, but they were real, alive, with their bark, with their leaves, their thorns. Similar to the brambles that now served as crowns on Persephone's head.

It was a matter of a second.

The branches, all together, plunged into Pirithous' flesh. They stuck his arms, his legs, his back. Not enough to kill him, but enough to grow _inside_ him, to bind to his bones. Enough to keep him there forever. And make him scream.

Worse than Cronus screamed in Tartarus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This time, I need to explain a little poetic license I took in this chapter.  
> In the original myth, Pirithous was, well... if possible, even more stupid than my version of him. He goes with Theseus to the Underworld to see Hades and ask him for permission to kidnap and re-marry Persephone. After the King refuses (OF COURSE), he even tries to attack her in front of him. Now, this is what I call someone who doesn't care about life.  
> Anyway, in the myth, "the chair of forgetfulness" was Hades' evil idea. There are different versions of it: some say it was a chair with chains, some say the chains were snakes; but my favourite version says the chair was made of flesh, and it became one with the person sitting on it, making it impossible to escape, except by ripping the entire body off (greek myths were gory, you see). Now, this is awesome, but... I've always seen Persephone way more vengeaful than her husband. She feels strong emotions, for better or for worse. And when it's the "worse" time, I think she'd be way more evil than the King. So, that's why I chose to let her enjoy the chair of forgetfulness all by herself. And then, it was great with the wood, the branches growing, you know... I'm quite proud of that part, I must confess xD  
> Anyway, hope you liked it! Told you she was going to find all her confidence and become the dreadful Queen, and this is just the beginning!  
> Now, while I'm translating for you the next chapter, just imagine how Hades will react...  
> Until next time, and thank you as usual! *.*


	33. The hungry beast

Just once.

In all eternity, just once Persephone was able to taste a splinter of Hades’ anger. And yes, the occasion was that evening.

The God of the Underworld was indeed extremely controlled in every facet of his life. Since his ideal solution was always to passively fight for long-term universal goals, he could endure almost anything. He could bear something stolen from him, someone making fun of him, humans not praying to him, he could also bear the resentment of a sister and the indifference of a brother. He could bear anything. Really, really everything.

 _Except_ a mortal spilling his woman’s ichor.

Persephone hadn't even noticed it, actually. She had just risen from the chair, turned into a terrible instrument of torture, and now she was looking at Pirithous while backing away. Immediately afterwards the door had opened wide and Hades had entered with a rush, perhaps warned by Hestia, certainly upset for the scream. He hadn’t cared about the mortal who was gasping in the center of the room, he had just run to her, he had hugged her, he had touched her neck. And there he had frozen.

Persephone felt him stiffen. Immediately, the God withdrew, pushed his face away from hers. He looked like an inanimate rock. Finally , he slipped his hand from behind Persephone's neck, looked at it and froze even more: his fingers were covered in white liquid, streaked with gold; like the one the Goddess had seen when she had lost her virginity, but in much larger quantity.

Pirithous had made her hit the head so hard that, had she been a human, she would’ve died. She would’ve been another Eurydice. Perhaps just another, in a series of many other victims.

At that point, the world fell on her. Perhaps it fell on everyone: even Pirithous, even the other Gods who, curious, were piling up outside the bathroom. Because the feelings of the Cronids always took a lot of space, a lot of attention, and this time Persephone could almost see anger take physical form and shroud Hades as a new skin. The heaviness of his emotion descended upon everyone, it became palpable, it even became difficult to stand in his presence: they were all reduced to supporting columns of a temple too heavy. That time, really, Cronus' cruelty in Tartarus seemed nothingcompared to what his firstborn could unleash.

Persephone was still upset. Not apologetic, but exhausted, by her feelings and also by the wound still leaking ichor and smearing her hair, shoulders, dress. Yet, the negative energy that was accumulating in Hades was such as to make her even more vigilant than before: it was as if something very powerful, a nuclear reactor, was going to explode. The earth even trembled. At first, the crystal chandeliers started rattling and tinkling. Then, the objects began to fall from the furniture, and standing became difficult.

The Gods clung to the walls, and Hades was motionless. Everything he was doing, perhaps an earthquake that was shaking the entire Greece and the Aegean, originated only from his immobility, only from the _prelude_ of his anger.

A more powerful shock almost made Persephone fall, so she clung to his forearm. She gave him a supportive look and knew that they were _both_ too angry to think sensibly. She knew it was one of those rare occasions when they agreed about the fact that Pirithous deserved the worst they could invent. But the wrath of Persephone, though terrible, would’ve only punished the culprit. That of Hades was way worse.

Hades’ wrath could destroy continents and reshuffle worlds, stars and universes, if only he had released it. He himself feared it, which was why he had always repressed it. Until then.

Persephone knew that his anger was about to become irreversible when his hair started to grow. Something involuntary, like her rebellious hair flowers. With the difference, however, that Hades always had full control of his physical form: if he was now regressing to his original appearance without a logical reason, it meant that he was losing his temper. If he had lost his temper, the apocalypse would’ve come.

"Hades... Hades, I've already punished him, it's over."

She tried to calm him, but she knew she wasn’t being persuasive. Because she was angry too, she also wanted to take Pirithous to the Underworld without waiting for the turn of the Wheel. And, in fact, her words only had the effect of reminding the Inexorable the presence of his enemy, there, just one step away.

He turned with a glacial firmness that, even slow, for the first time didn’t transmit any kind of tranquility, any kind of justice. It was the merciless power of a murderer, of a warrior who had fought wars and torn lives. The firmness of a male Cronid who was going to feast on the corpse of a prey, toasting blood in their emptied skull.

Hades took just a step towards the man. He looked at him from above, holding his hand raised in front of him, showing the enemy the ichor, the horror and crime he had been guilty of. Braver and more tenacious humans than Pirithous had been sentenced to Tartarus _forever_ for having failed to respect the Gods, and in no case had it ever been such a serious affront.

Meanwhile, Pirithous was trembling in pain. Heavy tears were running down his face and getting lost in his beard, just as a few drops of blood were leaking from all the circular wounds. The wood, penetrated with precision into the flesh, was tied to the bones, and it raised the meat creating a macabre relief pattern in his arms, neck, shoulders, legs and spine.

He couldn't move, he couldn't even tilt his head. He could only stay still crying, trembling, perhaps praying that the Inexorable would take him away; unaware that, even if he had, he would’ve reserved for him the exact same punishment in Tartarus.

Hades still was doing nothing. Meanwhile, his anger only kept growing, and the earthquakes intensified. Some Gods ran away, fearing the wrath of a Cronid as if they were all mortals.

Finally, the King of the Underworld lowered himself. He rested his clean hand on the armrest of the chair and kept the other well raised in front of his enemy’s face, dripping ichor and guilt. His hair slipped in front of his shoulders and Persephone knew that Pirithous now had the same relentless face of the hearings before him, nocturnal eyes framed by a black silk hair. However, he was still alive, he wasn’t lucky enough to already be a soul. On him, the terrible power of Hades had the same effect as on the mortals in Rome, on the evening of the charity auction: Pirithous, at that moment, had the _certainty_ that he was about to die at the hands of the same God of the dead, and that he would’ve suffered for the rest of eternity.

" _Hybris_ " the Inexorable hissed, like a snake, "you deserve to die, in this life and the next."

He did nothing violent. Hades wasn’t like that, he had never been vicious even in battle: he wasn’t an aggressor. But certainly he was someone who took what was his. That's why he simply put his hand, the one stained in ichor, on Pirithous' chest. And there, like a stain, rotten and decomposing, his body began to _wither_ , thanks to the terrible power that Hades had but didn’t use, and that Persephone had only seen practiced on a flower in the Elysian Fields.

He wasn't just killing him. He was taking away the gift of life.

One thing was certain: Pirithous would’ve died before his time. That was Hades’ intention, there was nothing that could make him change his mind: he could do it, he wanted to do it, and for him the decision was taken already.

But resentment is a beast that’s always hungry: feeding on revenge only increases its size and its greed doesn’t fade. It can be terrible in a human being, so it becomes unimaginable to conceive the consequences on a greater God, for whom everything is amplified, for better or for worse. Especially because the emotions of the Gods always have terrible effects on their surroundings and humanity beneath them.

If Hades had killed Pirithous, he would’ve taken on so much anger, hatred and cruelty that he would’ve destroyed Olympus. Everyone knew it. Zeus knew it.

He came running from outside. He didn't wait a moment: he threw himself on Hades and detached him from Pirithous, interrupted their physical contact. The withering that was about to decompose the man stopped instantly.

Zeus pushed his brother away, holding his hands hooked on the collar of his jacket, tugging him. Hades, in response, had painted a cruel grin on his face, which he had never shown until then.

"Zeus. _Predictable_."

"He’s my son, what did you expect?"

"And I'm your older brother. Back off _._ "

Hades grabbed Zeus’ wrists and shook his hands off himself with such disdain that for a moment he seemed the supreme God instead of his brother. But the latter, as proud as the eldest, didn’t let him pass, kept blocking his way.

"Hades, you're doing a mess. Calm down."

But the God of the Underworld didn’t listen to him. With the look of a lurking tiger, he towered on him, taller, darker. The power of the Father of the Gods seemed to be null in comparison.

"Why? Why am I always the one who must calm down? Why must the stability of the universe always depend on me? While you walk around, inseminating mortal women, giving life to bastards you can’t keep on a leash, even in your house, towards your guests. King of the surface because _I granted you to be_ , and how do you repay me? Offending _my_ woman? Preventing me from claiming the right punishment for her ichor? You are a _shame_ for our traditions. For our family. _I pity you_."

No one. No one had ever spoken like that to Zeus. Not even the same Hades: to Persephone it was clear from the surprised and hurt expression painted on the clear face of the supreme King.

And still, resentment is a beast that is always hungry. Once it has activated its game of negativity, it multiplies, it’s also transmitted to others. And on that occasion it made Zeus lighten his palm, as if he were loading a thunderbolt between his fingers.

Zeus, much more impulsive than Hades, was also angry. He was charging the thunder, which he hadn’t used for centuries: the whole world was about to end because of the insignificant Pirithous.

Finally, that last thought let Persephone find her reason.

She rushed. She knew she had to do it, or two male Cronids on the edge of physical confrontation would never have stopped by themselves.

She stood in the middle, with a courage she would never have believed she possessed. It had always been difficult for her to assert herself in front of the major Gods, including her mother. But now it didn't seem difficult, because there was something more at stake: a terrible conflict, perhaps a war that was about to change the destiny of the universe. No one could afford it.

She forced herself between them, though she was smaller than both, and it seemed to separate two motionless mountains. For the first time in her life, she felt she had really made a physical effort and won it. Like Pirithous had to leave her when she had screamed, now Hades and Zeus separated, because her will to calm them was stronger than theirs to destroy each other.

She was almost speechless when she realized that she had succeeded, but she didn’t hesitate. She looked first at Hades, then at Zeus, and they both returned her astonishment.

She knew she had to talk. She decided to do it starting from her partner: she turned to him, leaning a delicate hand on his forearm.

"Hades, my love" she said it and she didn’t care, even if they were in public, "thank you for your concern, but I have taken care of him. I managed to do it on my own, there's no need to turn an affront _to me_ into a pretext for a quarrel between brothers. We have no need to get revenge on Pirithous: in one of our eye blinks he will die and be in our court, and then we will judge him. We can and must wait for the _right time_."

These had to be the right words, because his tension blurred a little, the arm muscles softened under the fabric of the suit. His forehead stretched out and became flat. The earth gradually ceased to tremble, and the sigh of relief was unanimous.

Persephone changed objective and turned to the more difficult one: the Aegiochos, Father of all the Gods. His look was less intimidating than Hades’, by nature. But to say that a mountain is a few meters lower than another doesn’t make it much easier to climb: Zeus intimidated for different reasons, less passive, more violent. Not with his eyes but with his role and the lightning that still waited quiescently in his fingers.

Persephone swallowed, certain that she was about to commit a very serious insubordination. But she couldn't stop now. If she hadn't put him in his place now that he was listening to her, she would never have succeeded.

"Father of the Pantheon" she bowed her head, respectful but not submissive, "I know I’m just a minor Goddess in your eyes, an addition of Demeter’s power. I understand that, it’s fair. But still, I’m a _Goddess_. That man attacked me and I defended myself, and it’s irrelevant if he’s your son. Much worse things have been done for way more futile reasons, by all the Olympians: why should the treatment with me be different? Pirithous has committed _hybris_ and I demandthat you respect my punishment. And if he wants mercy, then he must _pray to me._ Not as Spring, but as his future judge in the Underworld. You all demand your prayers, well, it’s time that I too receive mine. When he’ll turn to me with respect, I’ll listen to him and evaluate his repentance. But until then, he'll stay on that chair."

Zeus stood still, silent. Now more than ever he seemed the brother of the Inexorable, distinguishable only by physical features and not by character. He seemed to be meditating, while staring down at her, for once not impulsive.

He never expressed himself. He never said if he had liked or disliked that speech by Persephone, never directly at least. Just, he turned off the thunderbolt in his hand, cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt collar. The Goddess took it as a good sign.

"You talk like Demeter."

He didn't say anything else. He pursed his lips behind his thick beard, then turned the blue irises on Hades.

"Well, if you were looking for a Queen, I think you’ve found one."

Hades, for his part, didn’t reply. For the first time Zeus had said something he could agree on: he merely lowered his head and nodded.

The two brothers didn’t apologize: it was unnatural for them; but they renounced their intentions, and this was already a lot for two Cronids. Zeus, now acting indifferent, as if in the end the whole situation didn't matter much to him, he turned and headed for the exit, where the Gods were waiting anxiously.

"Father! Father, help me!"

Zeus stopped, standing hard on his feet, in the middle of the room. He didn't even look at the man’s face.

" _You scared Hebe._ "

There was no need for him to say anything else: it was clear to everyone that he himself considered Pirithous behavior an offense, and if he had tried to appease Hades it hadn’t been to defend a mortal. Pirithous had made the very serious mistake of violating the duties of a guest, and moreover frightening one of the legitimate and divine children of Zeus, which he considered much more valuable.

Pirithous had overrated himself. And he had much overrated the love of a God for a mortal.

"Father..." he said in disbelief, "I am... your son!"

But Pirithous hadn’t yet understood that Zeus was the Father of all and no one. He didn’t care that much about one of his bastard sons, he wasn’t different from any other mortal. Above all, he didn’t care to favor Pirithous, who wasn’t particularly gifted with any virtue, compromising relations with one brother and another Goddess.

Indifferent, Zeus started walking again, abandoning his son right there.

"I have many other sons, Pirithous. Pray to the Goddess you offended, you’re on your own."

The way back home was very difficult, emotionally.

Persephone, looking out the window with an angry expression, feeling emptied, remained silent and ran her fingers over the silk of the golden dress that Hera had given her. The Queen had been very sweet for once in her life: after the aggression, she had taken Persephone to her private rooms, and had made her choose a dress from her private wardrobe. Then, she had personally wiped her neck with a wet cloth and had offered her a cigarette.

"Thank you, but I can't smoke. It’s not good for the flowers." Persephone explained, proud and serious, pointing a finger to the daffodils in her hairstyle.

Hera had widened an oblique, regal smile.

"They're all dead anyway, honey. Take this cigarette, trust me. I’m used to Zeus and his humanized seed."

And she gave it to her anyway, together with a gold cigarette holder.

Persephone hadn't felt like rejecting a second time, and so she had accepted: her first official meeting with the Mother of the Gods had been in her bedroom, with her dress on, her cigarette and in total silence.

In the end, when the cigarettes had become ashes, Hera had placed a hand on her shoulder, understanding and severe at the same time. She had looked her straight in the eye, with the golden irises that were so similar to those of Demeter.

"Pirithous hasn’t offended just you, dear niece. I’ll personally make sure that he stays where he is. And I'll smoke in his face for you."

It had been a pleasant meeting, after all. Persephone was sorry it had occurred after such a bad evening, but at least Hera had been kind. Always dry, with a disgusted expression on her face, but accommodating. Perhaps Persephone would never have even known her, had it not been for Pirithous stupidity.

And so that was why she came out of that palace with a new dress and dry lungs, calmer outside but no less angry. Now she was in the car with Hades, and she didn’t know what to say to him. Right next to her, the purple dress lay folded on the seat: not that it was necessary to treat it carefully, because the fabric was stained in ichor, wrinkled and ripped, probably irreparable.

She sighed and glanced at the dark pile that had been Hades' present. She stroked it, resentfully.

"That lousy bastard has ruined my dress."

It was the only thing she could say, gritting her teeth for all the grime she was feeling. She just wanted to go to the thermal baths and never get out again; but anyway, she had the sensation that it wouldn't have been enough to feel clean.

She shuddered, refusing to feel ashamed because of that mortal.

"Kore" Hades muttered, shy, afraid, "Kore, it's just... a dress."

Persephone shot him a look and saw him contrite, confused. He didn’t know what to say, even though he knew that the ripped dress wasn’t the real problem. Perhaps, his ancient mentality obliged him to feel embarrassed in speaking of a subject so delicate with to a woman.

"It was your gift. It was worth." She repeated his identical words of a few months before, and then finally she managed to make him smile. His dark eyes narrowed and showed some small wrinkles in the corners of the eyelid: he seemed ageless. Child and very old at the same time.

From that moment on, however, he took a little confidence and reached for her. He touched the back of her neck, slowly, very delicate, to make sure that the ichor wasn’t leaking from the wound. He sighed, relieved to find his fingers clean.

"Did he hurt you?"

Persephone shrugged.

"He did, but it would’ve been worse if I were a mortal. As it has been for Erydice."

They both sighed because it was a hot topic, they knew. Persephone wetted her lips and didn’t insist. She preferred to just enjoy his touch, so light that she perceived it as something intangible. It felt like northern wind.

"I'm sorry" the Inexorable dared, really apologizing, one of his very rare occasions, "I should’ve been there."

"Hades, you’re not my guardian. You weren't there because it was a party, we were hundreds, and no one could imagine it. It just went like this."

But Hades’ sense of responsibility for his partner was immense, a sort of the ancient heritage of ancient duties, and it couldn’t be eradicated with a couple of reassurances.

"No, I should’ve _known_ " he insisted, "I was blinded by Zeus, I was checking that he wasn't around you, I got distracted. I made a mistake. It didn't have to happen."

"You’re not to decide what should happen, the Wheel does" replied the Goddess, "you can fool yourself into having everything under control, but it’s not like that, even if you’re a God. And anyway, I managed to defend myself quite successfully."

"Yes, that’s true. You’ve been… _terrifying._ "

That was both a joke and the truth, and Persephone couldn’t contain a bitter smile, hearing he was sincerely amazed at what she could do. He had always thought her much weaker, well, like everyone else. Who would’ve ever thought that the Goddess of flowering could fuse a man to a chair?

"Horror movies give a lot of good ideas. You should watch TV more often, yout majesty."

He smiled and, finally, the atmosphere was lighter. Perhaps as it hadn't been for days, between them.

For the first time since she had known him and since they were used to traveling together, he was the first to approach, changing places. He seated in the center and sighed. Finally, silent, he put his arms around her, squeezed her hard and kissed her forehead.

Persephone felt that the adrenaline was dropping on her mind and muscles, causing her to feel tired, in extreme need for sleep. Perhaps, it was also thanks to the wound on the head. So, she finally relaxed, collapsing on Hades’ legs, resting her head on his thigh. Too hard. It wasn't comfortable, but it felt like home.

"You were perfect tonight, Divine Persephone" his voice came from behind, and it seemed a solemn announcement rather than a compliment, "you put me and Zeus to our places, although it shouldn't have been your problem at that time. I must apologize. We are very stupid sometimes."

"You're not stupid" the Goddess, joked, lying down and staring at the black leather on the opposite seat, "you are men."

"Well, therefore I'm more and more sure that I want at my side a woman like you. You were _fairer_ than me. Are you ready."

With those last words he probably was referring to the throne of Erebus, but in Persephone it raised a completely different thought: the knot. She was no longer afraid to ask. After all she had done, it made no sense to fear such a stupid thing.

The right time can lessen many fears and priorities.

"Hades" she spoke to him, firm, "Hades, you have to tell me something. _That_ thing."

" _Ask me._ "

She didn’t make him wait any longer:

"I saw a knot in our threads on the Telematic Loom, and I was a child. We have met way before the conference. Do you remember?"

Persephone exhaled, feeling as if she had been freed of a great lump in her throat. Really, grudge is a beast that is always hungry, and she had fed hers for many days. It wasn’t the same kind of violent hatred she had felt for Pirithous, of course, it was just a passive bitterness, a _nuisance_ , but still it was a beast, and it had been fed too much.

As evidence of the fact that the issue was gravitating between them for too long, making them both uncomfortable, this time the one to waver was Hades. He waited a moment and to gain some time he placed his hand on the side of her face, starting to trace circles on her temple.

"I remember it, yes. You were an unusual child. I couldn’t have forgotten about you."

"Why did you keep it secret?"

"I wasn’t keeping it secret, I was just waiting for the right time. I needed to make sure you wanted to know."

Persephone had the feeling that he wasn’t honoring his part of the agreement, because he was still hesitating. But Hades had to feel her disappointment, because he hurried to add:

"Let's just say that _you_ areone of the reasons Demeter and I had a fight."

"Tell me what happened, come on."

He chuckled, without any hilarity in his voice, only suffering.

"Never been a great storyteller, I'm afraid. But I'll show you. Can you wait to be at home?"

Well, she had learned to wait, having him around and having to adapt to his slow, slow routine. Then she said that it was fine and Hades, quietly cuddling her, begged her to rest in the meantime, to sleep and wait for the lost ichor to regenerate. He swore to her that she would’ve felt better once they got home.

When they arrived at the palace, however, it was as if she hadn’t rested for a second. Persephone felt tired as before, tense as before, determined as before, and she knew it was because she had to discover the truth to have peace.

Hades kept his promise: as soon as they arrived in their semi-dark room, theater of echoes and mild breeze coming from the terrace on the Elysian Fields, he invited her to sit down at the desk. He turned on the computer, opened the Telematic Loom. He sought his own thread, black as the waters of the Styx, filtering and selecting just a few salient events. And he went back. Much more back in time than Persephone had asked.

Three hundred thousand years.

"Start from here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what this means, right?   
> F L A S H B A C K !  
> Guys, I love flashbacks, seriously. Together with the dialogues, they're probably my favourite thing to write. And plus, they'll be from Hades' point of view! The only two chapters completely focused on him. We'll know about his past, some serious historical events... and that famous knot, of course. We are getting close to the end, there are great things ahead! So, stay tuned (and healthy and safe as usual), and thank you for reading! *.*


	34. Open your eyes

_299.992 YEARS TO THE KNOT_

_At first he could see nothing._

_Hades had always lived in darkness. The world was hidden to him by his own eyelids since birth; as companion, the inevitable certainty that, if he had raised them, he would have hurt someone._

_He knew just some things back then: the sound of his mother's thundering voice, the sweet words of his sisters, the scent of flowers, the barren ground beneath his feet. But, above all, he knew and was terrified of the heavy steps of the Titans._

_And the heaviest was that of Cronus._

_Usually Rhea, his mother, warned him and his sisters to let them run away when he was close; but her warning was often superfluous, because it was possible to hear Cronus walking from afar, at least one hundred and fifty of his steps away. Hades, Hestia, Demeter and Hera could hear him and escape, snaking through the trees, for them immense, for the Titans just a little more than stalks of grass._

_But the girls were more independent, they could run away, hide, wait for Time to pass. For Hades it wasn’t like this: blinded by his own fear, he was unable to move on his own. That’s why usually Demeter took him by the hand, and she was the only one willing to do it: Hestia was too coward, Hera too selfish._

_Then they used to run, because they knew that Time was on their neck. Their father, in fact, had received a prophecy: one of his children would’ve dethroned him, as he had done when he was young with Uranus. He couldn’t allow it and, since they were born, he was looking for Rhea's children to make them harmless. The children didn't know how: depriving them of immortality? Killing them directly? They didn't want to find out._

_They used to take refuge in the forests, in the hollow trunks, in the holes in the ground, sometimes in the river beds, holding the breath they didn't even need. That day, Hades and Demeter had hidden in a damp cave without echoes._

_They were panting. Out of fear, not out of exhaustion._

_The little girl led her younger brother as far as she could, as he stumbled over his own feet. When finally Demeter decided to stop, she took him by the shoulders and made him sit down, then positioned herself in front of him and grabbed his trembling hands._

_"Shut up, he'll hear us!"_

_"Sorry."_

_He stopped squealing and even breathing, to be sure. He held his eyelids shut, trying to sense his father's footsteps. He heard them, but they were far away: he hadn't followed them, maybe another sister. He understood from Demeter's clutching fingers that, like him, she was praying to see Hestia and Hera again._

_"I think he left." The young girl said at one point, exhaling nervously. Hades could feel only her hot breath on the skin of his face, and he wondered how Demeter looked like. He also wondered how his father looked like, and if he really was as horrible as he imagined._

_"If you opened your eyes it would be easier to run away!" Demeter scolded him suddenly, sternly._

_"Sorry."_

_"Why don't you open them?"_

_"_ I know _that if I open them it's not good. Sorry."_

_"Stop apologizing, you're boring!"_

_Hades opened his mouth, instinctively feeling like apologizing again, but he stopped right away. He remained silent._

_To remain silent was always the best answer. The words just didn't want to collaborate with him, even Hades himself didn't know why. Perhaps because the sisters talked a lot, too much, and he had always struggled to get into their discussions. Apologizing was the only way he knew to be heard._

_Then, again too sudden, came the voice of Demeter. But this time it had lost all the stern note and sounded only as a plea:_

_"Please open your eyes. You're a big boy now, you have to look after yourself. I can't always save you."_

_"No…"_

_"Come on, do it! Don't be afraid, I’m here, it's easy! You just have to lift your eyelids, then you can see everything."_

_"No, I don’t want to. Sorry, Demi."_

_"Aidoneus, do it. It’s an order, I'm bigger than you. If you don't, I'll leave you to Cronus next time."_

_He felt like crying. He didn't want to see, he couldn't. Why was it so difficult for Demi to understand? Perhaps it had always been normal for her, perhaps it was normal for all those who had opened their eyes since the first day of life. He hadn't done it and there was a reason._

_Suddenly, because he hadn't seen it coming, he felt the warmth of Demi’s hand on his cheek._

_"Aidoneus, I'm here. As soon as you open them you will see me. Don’t you want to see me?"_

_"Yes…"_

_"Then do it. Seriously, it's time. We can't go on like this."_

_Finally, his sister desperation convinced him. He really didn’t wish to see, he liked the darkness, it was reassuring. Had it been for him, he would’ve embraced it forever. But he was also aware to be a burden, he couldn’t really continue to slow down Demeter._

_He waited a moment, felt a strong terror overwhelming him, more than when Cronus chased him. But he swallowed, decided to be strong and to do it. Not out of courage, but out of duty. For the sake of the family._

_"Open your eyes, Aidoneus."_

_That was the last incentive he needed: he opened his eyes._

_It was difficult at the beginning. The eyelids were heavy, they didn’t want to rise. He had to try hard. And when he succeeded, even though he was sheltered in a cave, the light blinded him: it hurt his irises, the air lashed the sensitive bulbs painfully. Then, slowly, everything became more bearable. But not clear. He saw nothing, it wasn’t so different than having his eyes closed._

_The only new thing was Demeter._

_His sister was the first thing he saw in his life and he was dazzled by her. She stood out in the darkness of that cave, as if she was shining with her own light. Bright, young, she looked like embodied energy. She seemed made of gold, especially in her straight hair and shining eyes._

_"Demi... you're... you're beautiful."_

_And she was, she really was. Hades had the feeling that he would’ve never seen anything more beautiful in his life, because he knew nothing but her._

_She was beautiful anyway, even though she was scared, petrified. Even though she was trembling with her eyes bulging._

_"Demi? What's up?"_

_But she was still, her jaw clenched so hard that her neck was pulsing. Panic. In her eyes there was fear: the first emotion that Hades saw on a person's face._

_"Demi? Demi, speak, please!"_

_He grabbed her shoulder and shook her, trying to revive her. She was rigid, it was almost impossible to shake her. Hades was scared too, now._

_Hades stood up, took both her shoulders. He tried to shake her again, again. Until, finally, as she exhaled, she seemed to recover: Demeter blinked and managed to move her head, to take her eyes off those of his brother._

_She started breathing again and Hades with her, relieved. He sat back down on the rock, his legs without strength._

_"Demi? What happened?"_

_"You were right. Your eyes are strange."_

_"Sorry."_

_Demeter swallowed and said nothing more, because there was not even any need to talk: Hades had always_ known _he had something different in his eyes. It was his power, as Hestia had that of lighting fires and bringing joy, Demeter the one of growing ready-to-harvest plants. Too bad that his certainty hadn’t yet proved useful, if not to make him afraid of everything._

_"They’re... they're so dark. Do they hurt?" Demeter asked, timid._

_"Not right now."_

_"Maybe you kept them too closed. Can you see something?"_

_Actually, he wasn't sure. He could see her, yes, but nothing else. He didn't know what it meant to see, and maybe it was so for everyone, but he had the feeling that something was missing: the background, the context. It took him some time to understand that yes, he lacked something and his eyes didn’t work as those of others: he could see people, he could see his sisters in the dark and distant, but the rest of the world would’ve never been very clear to him._

_Since then, he had always preferred to be in the dark: at night or in a cave. That way, at least, he knew for sure that he wasn’t missing out anything compared to the others._

_299.989 YEARS TO THE KNOT_

_When Cronus carried out the slaughter of his children, it was because he was enraged by the birth of the last one, Poseidon. He barely had time to come into the world that Cronus was already there, threatening Rhea during delivery with his sickle. As soon as the child was born, the Titan grabbed him with only two fingers, lifted him up to the sky and devoured him alive. He couldn't even chew him, because he was too small._

_The others tried to run away, as they had done up until then, but it soon became clear that Cronus had never put all the effort he was able of to catch them. Now that he really wanted to end the problem, it took him just two steps to grab all four of them, even though they were running away in different directions._

_He devoured them all. First Hera, because she was insulting him more vigorously, then Hestia because she was whining. And finally, Hades and Demeter, together and hand in hand as they had always been, shouting, crossing the beast's teeth, his esophagus, his throat, into his stomach. Born in the belly of a Titaness, they would’ve lived up to the end of the universe in the belly of a Titan._

_There’s not much left to say about those dark years, which they couldn’t even count: they could just wait in the dark, smelly stomach, growing up without any hope of getting out again._

_Mutual company didn't help. Hera did nothing but complain, scream, kick, she did for years. When she was too annoying, Cronus used to beat his own stomach and cause pain to everyone. Hestia was the saddest: she couldn’t find peace and for many years she didn't utter a word, merely crying. Poseidon, growing up, showed a more adaptable character, perhaps because he hadn’t had time to fall in love with the world._

_Finally, Hades and Demeter, always holding hands, always side by side. Now that the darkness was everywhere, he was the one helping her. The experience consolidated their relationship, to the point that they even promised to each other that they would’ve never parted their ways._

_But Time, Fate and many other powers dominate over the universe, and therefore even the promises of the Gods weren’t that worth. In fact, the cards of destiny were reshuffled by the arrival of Zeus._

_The sixth Cronid, no one of the other knew how he had avoided Cronus’ wrath. When he freed them, tearing the belly of the Titan, Hades and the others didn't even know he was ever born. And instead, one day they had found themselves in front of him, free, unable to return to breathe, annoyed by the sunlight; on the contrary, Zeus was standing, young, handsome, strong, glorious. Perhaps, he was the most beautiful of them all: snow-colored hair, sculptural body, well aware of his beauty and self-confident. He had obviously grown up well-fed and loved by his caretakers._

_The five siblings were incredulous, as they tried to get up from the ground, hearing the steps of a wounded but not defeated Cronus, running away. They looked at each other, then again at their savior, who was smiling proudly. But gratitude wasn’t the first emotion they felt: they felt envy, antipathy. Hades recognized that feeling in himself and saw it in the other four: they had in front of them a brother who had had everything they would’ve wanted in their childhood; who had freed them, perhaps, just to show off._

_A brother who hadn’t been devoured by Cronus wasn’t a real brother._

_299.963 YEARS TO THE KNOT_

_The war had been dragging on for too many years and they knew it. A war against Time, on the other hand, could be only a war of attrition._

_Cronus was destined to win, there was no doubt. Hades himself was_ certain _of it, he knew he would’ve eaten them all again, if something hadn't changed. But, luckily for them, the Wheel had already decided in their favor, and something changed: three unexpected gifts from those who hated the Titans as much as they did._

_The thunderbolt to Zeus._

_The trident to Poseidon._

_The Kunée to Hades._

_Not even for a moment Hades was offended that he hadn’t received a weapon. Ever since he was a child, constantly on the run, fearing Time, he had known that he wouldn’t have been more than an acceptable melee warrior, compared to his male brothers. He had never cared, for what he lacked in combat, he had in cunning. And the helmet, which made him invisible to anyone, helped him in his eternal pursuit of darkness._

_And yet, paradoxically, he wasn't the one who benefited the most: the Kunée saved Demeter instead._

_It happened one morning. Hades and Demeter were together, as usual, wherever they went, also and especially during the Titanomachy. Hades had just finished wearing his light armor. He had his helmet under his arm, the plume crawling on the bare ground on the edge of the woods. He was telling his sister to stay hidden in the vegetation. Then it happened._

_Cronus had emerged._

_He seemed to have come out of nowhere, born at that very moment. But no: he had been lying on the bottom of the near sea, as they had done too as children to escape him. Because Time knows very well how to imitate past events, and he certainly wasn't a fool: he improved, every day he became smarter and less predictable._

_So, he emerged, gigantic, and perhaps even greater than they remembered, since years had passed for him as well: the Titans were continuously growing, they never stopped; and Cronus was the eldest, now of inconceivable size. He could have made a small stool out of a hill, he could have picked an oak tree like a primrose. And he was there for them._

_They tried to escape, in opposite directions as they used to do since they were children. They couldn’t even take two steps: as soon as they were divided, Cronus struck one foot on the ground, and the tremor he generated was such that both Hades and Demeter fell ruinously to the ground._

_Slow, yet_ inexorable, _Cronus charged the blow. Hades saw him only out of the corner of his eye, and indeed he_ knew _that the blow wasn’t aiming at him._

_It was aiming at Demi._

_He turned quickly, terrified. He had absolute certainty that he would’ve torn her to pieces. She had just a tunic on her body, she was about to lose all her ichor. There wasn’t immortality that could withstand a wound like that._

_Demeter was about to die. Hades couldn’t let it happen._

_He got up and did what was against all logic and every instinct he had followed until then: he stood between his sister and his father. And at that point he could do nothing but look at Cronus like a mirror._

_They were the same. So similar. But Cronus was more beautiful. As a child, Hades had imagined him horrible, and only now that he was about to die he was realizing how much they resembled each other._

_He hit him, with such a violence that Hades was thrown away, the armor scratched with four terrible furrows. The jagged edges of the metal were towards the inside, penetrating his chest, tearing it, where an unknown liquid was already beginning to gush._

_But he wasn't dead. Hades was still alive._

_He didn't know how._

_He tried to ignore the pain, to overcome it even though he wasn't immune at all. He glanced at Demeter and saw that she was safe, and now she was running towards him._

Don’t to do it, _he wanted to say,_ go away because that was our only chance.

_But she was stubborn, she had always been, and he on the other hand couldn't scream: the deformed armor was tightening his chest, cutting off the words in his mouth._

_Ironic. Ironic as it was always so difficult to talk, even now that he wanted to do it._

_If he convinced Demi not to reach him, it was only because of the terrible look he gave her. He gave her the_ certainty _that if she didn't run away she would die. And finally, with his last energies, he threw the helmet to her._

Put it on and go away.

_He saw her stop. She was crying golden tears._

_The Goddess looked at the helmet on the ground, at her feet. Only a last, fleeting glance at Cronus, slower than them, reloading the blow. Then, quickly, she put the Kunée on her head and disappeared, perhaps forever in the eyes of Hades._

_But a God who has never faced challenges is not even well aware of his own strength, and in that moment Hades was underestimating himself. In fact, he himself was astonished when he managed to get back on his feet, holding his hand on the scratches of the armor, trying to stop the ichor._

_He couldn't run, but he could try to escape into the woods. It had always been a difficult terrain for Cronus: for him it was like looking for a mouse in a wheat field._

_Hades didn't think about it and stumbled through the trees, begging the Wheel to turn in his favor. He never stopped, although behind him he could hear the Titan break down trees, searching in the forest as a normal God could do in tall grass. Hades didn’t look back. Until he found a cave, that had long been an ideal refuge for someone like him. The Unseen._

_He slipped in and waited there. Safe. Even if he could hardly believe it._

_Unfortunately for him, the Gods are immortal but not immune to suffering: the quietness awakened his pain and took his mind in exchange, leaving him unconscious._

_He slept a long time, without dreams, and even the awakening was sweet. He didn't know how much time had passed, he only knew that something was calling him._

_"Open your eyes" a voice was saying, "Aidoneus, open your eyes."_

_And then he had obeyed, and had his sister, who was kneeling beside him and stroking his head. The Kuneé lay beside them, savior of Gods._

_"Aidoneus, you're alive!"_

_As soon as he was awake, Demeter embraced him, kissed his forehead. Then she looked down at the armor. He acted like she wanted to unfasten the straps on his hips to take it off._

_Hades stopped her hand, scared._

_"No, don't touch. It hurts."_

_"The wounds can’t heal if you don’t remove it, the metal is sinking into the flesh."_

_He then let her do it, without complaining, but suffocating an atrocious cry that would’ve shaken the foundations of the earth and attracted Cronus._

_When Demeter removed the breastplate, what they saw left them frozen: four deep wounds. As soon as they were free, they started healing, but in the meantime they had lost so much ichor as to extinguish a river's thirst._

_It was there that Hades saw his ichor the first time, trembling, weeping in pain. A dark color, charcoal black. It was so dark that it had almost no depth: the only shine was gold streaks, like precious powder dissolved in pitch._

_"You're recovering" Demeter reassured him, holding him tightly and looking raptly at the ichor, the first one she saw, "it's... it's beautiful."_

_"It's shameful" Hades corrected her, pragmatic, offended that he was the only God to bleed since the Titanomachy had started, "but it was worth it."_

_It was worth it, yes. It really was._

_Later, Zeus had asked him why he had ever done it. He had almost died to save a woman’s life: sister or not wasn’t important for him, Demeter wasn't essential for the fate of the war and therefore she was expendable._

_Hades had replied: "If you had spent just one day with her in the belly of Cronus, you would know the reason."_

_299.961 YEARS TO THE KNOT_

_In the end, the Gods were victorious: Zeus dethroned Cronus as the prophecy had foreseen, proving that the Wheel wasn’t controllable by anyone, not even by Time._

_Actually, the mind of the whole plan was mainly Hades. It was his idea to deprive Cronus of his weapons, especially to rob him of the sickle from which he drew his power. It was his idea to wait for the Titan to get angry and fall into their traps with carelessness._

_All those were Hades’ ideas, which Zeus couldn’t have conceived in centuries of reasoning. But Hades never received glory, because the light of Zeus covered that of any other God, his was the favor of history._

_Hades never complained. He didn’t demand any honors, he didn't get any. For a long time he just settled for a new-found peace, waiting for the other brothers to decide how to act after the fall of Cronus, now chained at the bottom of Tartarus._

_He often walked with Demeter in that period of neutrality. The wounds healed but never disappeared, they stood out on his chest now that he could wear the tunic instead of the battle armor. With his sister he could now enjoy the fact that, now, they were the ones dictating the flow of Time: he never again had to run away, he could breathe and at the slow pace they had chosen._

_Precisely at that time, they also realized that they were now the greatest beings of creation. The Titanomachy had rebalanced both the flow of time and the dimensions of life: other beings appeared, emerging from their dens now that the Titans had fled. They were shorter than the Gods, covered in fur, without the gift of the Word: nothing more than animals, except for their ability to handle tools._

_Humans._

_Zeus had called them like that. He was curious about them, like all the others. And another curious one was certainly Demeter._

_One day she and Hades were eating fruit in the shade of an apple tree. She had grown fruits instantly, even though it wasn't the right season. Hades had complimented her, but had also asked her to try something different than apples: he offered her a pomegranate._

_Demeter had hated it. She had only eaten one grain and spit it out, much to Hades' displeasure. He liked it a lot, because the seeds reminded him of precious stones set in the rock._

_He didn't have time to get sad about his sister's unrefined tastes, though, because suddenly a group of those strange new beings had appeared. They were looking at them from afar with fear. Hades and Demeter looked back, not sure about how to approach them._

_She obviously did her best to jump in:_

_"They’re cute, we should help them."_

_At first, Hades didn't say anything, because he didn't share her enthusiasm but he didn't even want to hold her back: he let her approach those tiny beings, which at the time were little more than knee-length for the Cronids._

_Demeter didn’t want to behave like Cronus, she didn’t want to look like an angry Titaness. Hades could understand her, from a certain point of view, but he also knew that those humans weren't as weak as they appeared._

_He gave up the pomegranate he had in his hands then, and he too approached. To his surprise, even if he had done everything possible to seem calm, the beings' reaction was very different from the one they had reserved for Demeter: they disappeared, they didn't even take a moment to look into his eyes._

_Hades knew he should’ve to get used to it. he looked like Cronus, after all. Not just in the body._

_"I want to teach them to farm the land" Demeter said, watching them flee with compassion, "I want to teach them to make clothes, and houses, and to honor guests as we do."_

_"That's a bad idea."_

_She looked at him bitterly._

_"Sorry, why?"_

_"Because they’re dangerous. Cronus was nothing in comparison."_

_He knew he sounded ridiculous, but it was true, only time would’ve proved him right. In fact, at that moment Demeter didn’t believe him:_

_"They’re harmless, look at them! We are the Titans, now."_

_"Yes. We too were smaller than the Titans, but we defeated them because we’re more adaptable. Humans, now, are more adaptable than us. Their quick deaths make them a mutable kind, subject to uninterrupted change of minds. If you teach them what we know, they will copy us and then they will surpass us in intelligence and number. And then…"_

_"Then what?"_

_"Then they’ll destroy the world."_

_299.850 YEARS TO THE KNOT_

_Spending so many years in peace had had only one effect: provoking disagreements between them. Everyone had noticed it: the male brothers often discussed, above all Zeus and Poseidon, the most emotional among them, Hades preferring to cuddle the Kunée and remain neutral. But even the sisters were nervous: Hera often took it out on Hestia, who didn’t react, but provoked Demeter's defensive anger. The emotions of the Gods were too strong, and they were still too young to understand and control them. That’s why the first Symposium had been held._

_A meeting that had nothing royal back then: it was only Gods, sitting in a circle, Zeus on a stone with Hera beside him, and the others on the grass all around. The Cronids were looking at each other, raising eyebrows and throwing silent threats. Because the world was theirs, they knew it: but there couldn’t be six leaders._

_The first thing that was clear was that women were excluded. The matter was not even discussed by the interested parties, because they were grateful to the male brothers for having fought the war for them, and they didn’t want to deprive them of the division of creation. Whether or not they were aware of having just condemned an entire gender to submission is still uncertain._

_Therefore, right from the start there were three favorites: Zeus, Poseidon and Hades. None of them hated the other to the point of claiming the full glory, then another matter was solved almost immediately: the world would’ve been devided into three kingdoms._

_The problem was to determine who would take which._

_The kingdoms were equal in classification and extension, but this didn’t mean that they were equal in beauty, in utility, in the glory they carried. All three brothers dreamed, perhaps, of having the surface, the sky, the world that had been everyone's home for decades. That's why Zeus had started talking in a hurry, with a nice speech about why he should take the best piece of the cake._

_To his surprise, Hades didn't even let him finish his considerations._

_"Don't waste time, brother" he had intervened, "you saved us and you deserve recognition, I won't deny it. Take the surface and the sky, I want the Underworld."_

_Those words were so illogical in the ears of all the five siblings, that they looked at him eyes wide open, all together._

_"Oh, and... aren’t you going to put on the table your claim as firstborn, or something?" Zeus asked, petrified._

_"My only claim is Erebus. If it’s good for you, I have nothing else to say."_

_The matter was thus resolved, and in such a short time that the Cronids themselves were astonished. Because no, not even Poseidon had claims: the kingdom of the seas had little to envy to the rest of the surface, and as a second born he already expected and aimed to achieve just that._

_So, the great verbal battle that they had expected never started: Zeus smiled, tapped a foot on the ground twice, and so it was for ever and ever. Nobody expected, not even Hades, that it was Demeter the one complaining._

_She didn't do it in with the others. She waited for them to leave and then ran after Hades, furious. She grabbed him by the arm and made him turn towards her, anger reddening her eyes._

_"What comes to your mind?" She scolded him, like when they were children, hissing severely between her teeth._

_But Hades tidied up his tunic and didn't get upset._

_"I made my decision, I want Erebus."_

_"What are you talking about? That's the worst of the kingdoms, it's unlivable! I thought... I thought we had a plan."_

_Hades softened his eyes. He reached out a hand to her, stroked hers._

_"We still have our plan if you wish. But our future isn’t the surface."_

_"Can you hear yourself? Maybe it's not_ your _future, but it's_ mine _! I can't live underground, rocks are sterile, I have no powers if there is no fertile land! You didn't even ask me! Don't you care about my Mysteries? I thought... I thought you would’ve claimed the world... the fields, the sun, our home... you’re the firstborn, you can, so why...?"_

_"Because you must open your eyes, now: the earth won’t be like this forever. I know you don't want to believe me. But the surface it’s not meant to host us forever, we must find a more suitable place. Erebus is the most far-sighted choice and one day it will include everything, if only you have the perseverance to wait. You can come with me, I'm not alienating you. We could... get joined as Zeus and Hera."_

_"Zeus and Hera hate each other." The Goddess barked angrily._

_"We don't hate each other. Do we?"_

_A proposal of absolute convenience, without love, because before the arrival of Eros and Aphrodite the Cronids didn’t know that feeling. That was why Demeter, who was calculating convenience as well, withdrew her hand and stepped back, her thin lips curved downward as the horizon of the planet._

_"I've always been on your side, Aidoneus. But this time it's too much. You can't expect me to die for you!"_

_"Should I remind you that I almost died for you in my turn? Have you already forgotten about it?"_

_But Demeter had never been able to sustain speeches based solely on logic, especially if she felt offended. Even on that occasion, in fact, she did nothing but shout:_

_"Go back and get what's yours! We deserve the surface! The others can do without it, we can't!"_

_But Hades shook his head and, indifferently, turned around._

_"My offer will always be valid, Demi. But I’ve took my decision and it will never change. You’d better get used to it, it’ll be a long game."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First part of the flashback, folks! Yes, I'm trying to translate these last chapter very quickly because I don't want to leave you on the edge too much xD Hope you liked it, and believe me... the next one will be THE chapter. Brace yourself. Oh, and before you go, here's one of my artworks: [Cronus chasing Hades and Demeter](https://www.deviantart.com/lunarmorrigan/art/Cronus-chasing-Hades-and-Demeter-834541555)  
> Bye bye, see you next time! *.*


	35. Revelation

_186 .577 YEARS TO THE KNOT_

_Excavating hadn’t been easy._

_It wasn’t just a matter of physically cutting down the rock, there were many other tasks: controlling Tartarus and ensuring that Cronus remained harmless; looking for collaborators among the creatures, not human since they still were pretty useless at that time; designing the palace and organizing the management of the kingdom; all this, at the slow pace that the Cronids used to keep back then , since they weren’t yet subjected to the haste of mortals._

_That was why more than one hundred thousand years had passed since the first Symposium, but to Hades it had been like a single blink. Also because, perhaps, he was the busiest of them all, as well as the one who had embarked into creation with the most interest and enthusiasm, crafting his own Mysteries out of nothing._

_Above all, however, it took a very long time to find the courage to invite Demeter down there. He hadn’t insisted after saying he was willing to welcome her because he knew that there was almost nothing in Erebus she could appreciate. But now it was time to try: it was time to show her that there was room for her as well in the Underworld, and she wouldn’t have been rejected as from the bowels of Cronus. She had just to open her eyes, then she would’ve understood. She would’ve seen what Hades had seen for a long time._

_Well, Hades hoped so. But no, he had no certainty about that._

_That's why he was nervous when he went to pick her up with his quadriga. That’s why, now that they had descended into the Underworld, he was trying to keep his hand still as he held his sisters’, leading her down the rough steps of his future court._

_"Is... is Cronus here?" The Goddess asked, evidently fearful, now walking slow and uncertain due to the lack of light._

_Hades decided to do things right, calmly, to put her at ease as much as possible: he hugged her waist and led her slowly on the rough terrain, guiding her into the darkness without hesitation._

_"No" he replied, trying to put sweetness in his tone, like when they were children, "Cronus isn’t here, we’re very far from Tartarus. I don't want his power to come into my house."_

_But Demeter pursed her lips, skeptical. Hades saw it very well. It was dark, but he always could see her very well._

_"It’s damp and cold in here."_

_"Don't judge it now, it's not finished. It’ll be a worthy court, I promise you. Worthy of a queen, if... if you wish."_

_Her silence hurt more than Cronus' claws, but Hades decided not to let her see his disappointment. After all, he hadn’t yet shown the best part: seeing what he had managed to do, Demeter would’ve been surprised, she would’ve changed her mind._

_She would’ve done it._

_She would’ve... right?_

_"How much longer?"_

_"We're almost there."_

_"You still haven't told me where you're taking me."_

_"It’s a surprise."_

_That must have sounded bizarre to her, certainly. But she didn’t comment and kept walking, shrugging her shoulders to the uneasy climate._

_Finally, they reached the last step, uneven, leading to a room of limestone stalactites and stalagmites._

_"I can’t see anything." The Goddess complained._

_"Wait for it. Soon there will be light."_

_He led her for that last few steps as if she were more blind than him, careful not to let her put her feet in the puddles of dripping damp. Until, finally, they arrived on a promontory, a sort of semi-circular natural terrace. That place, unique in Erebus, led to a gorge and then to another cave, the deepest that Hades had discovered._

_Demeter gasped._

_She put her hands on her pink mouth, astonished, as she watched the luminous river flowing backwards and the waterfall defying the physical laws of the universe. Astonished, she examined the stream and the rushing waters near the rock wall. She brought her eyes to everything else: the grass, the fertile land, the endless hills that simulated a prairie of the surface._

_"Oh, well..." she didn't know what to say, she was silent again._

_Hades, nervous but trying not to show it, decided to fill the void left by Demeter’s words illustrating his projects._

_"I still don't know what I’ll call this place, but this is where I would like the souls of mortals to come. After a life of hunger and poverty, they’ll be grateful. The river, instead, is called Lethe. It already existed, but I diverted it: now it flows near the Phlagethon, which is made of lava and warms it up; so when it comes here, the Lethe warms up everything else."_

For you, Demi. It warms everything for you, so you’ll feel at home.

_He didn't say that._

_Demeter, meanwhile, wasn’t speaking. She stood motionless, craning her neck toward the cliff, careful. She was intrigued, yet she didn't express herself._

_Hades began to be annoyed._

_"Here I would also like to build the court. The King's quarters will look over the fields, it’ll be beautiful. It's not the surface, I know, but it could become something better."_

_But she was still mute, the golden irises shooting from one point of the cave to the other as if to look for flaws to criticize. Hades tried to encourage her to talk, because he really feared her silences. Trying show her the affection he felt but which wasn’t easy for him to express, he stretched his fingers and combed her blond hair behind her ear._

_Demeter finally recovered. She stared at him._

_"Did you make these fields by yourself?"_

_She sounded accusatory, not grateful. Hades withdrew his hand, seeing negative emotions in her, emotions that he had always been good at identifying but not at dealing with._

I made them for you, Demi.

_He would’ve wanted to say._

I made them because you’ve been my inspiration since I was born. I made them because I wanted you to feel at home. I made them because I need your light, sister. I made them because I want you here by my side, Queen of Erebus.

_But he didn't say that, no, he didn't say anything he really felt. Instead, he entrenched himself behind a stoic coldness, so as not to seem the insecure child he had always been._

_"I made the fields, yes." He added nothing else._

_"They’re bare. They look fake."_

I left them bare for you, because you’re better than me in this, because those are your Mysteries and I wanted you to embellish them.

_"They’re the best I could do."_

_"Well, they’re not like the surface. There’s no sun, no rain, no fresh air. How can you believe you can copy the kingdom of Zeus? You’re deluded."_

I didn't want to copy my brother's kingdom, I wanted to create something beautiful for my sister.

_"I’m no more deluded than you, Demi, acting obnoxious just to make me change my mind and reclaim the surface."_

_"I’m just trying to encourage you to take what’s yours, Aidoneus."_

_"What’s mine or what you’d like to be yours? If the problem is that you want to be queen of the world, I’m certain that Zeus would take you as his second wife: just go to him and open your thighs."_

_"How dare you? You’re so ungrateful!"_

Sorry.

_He couldn't say that word to her: she hated it and it would’ve made him sound more submissive than he wanted._

_"I'm... mortified, sister" he said flatly, probably not sounding sincere at all, "but things won't change now, so make your decision. If you want to stay here, you’re welcome. If you prefer the surface to your brother, then go away. We have nothing to discuss."_

_Seeing her look away hurt. Seeing her turn around, aiming at the corridor they came from, hurt even more._

_It hurt, ultimately, to let her go forever. That day, with a grip on his heart, Hades saw the certainty that not only would Demeter never adapt to Erebus, but neither would Erebus ever adapt to her. She wasn’t the one. Even if she had tried hard, she wouldn't have made it._

_Then Hades led her away, grateful that the darkness of the stairway hid his eyes, wet in regret and anger. He took her back to the surface and they didn’t even say goodbye to each other; they knew that they were leaving with anger still vivd, but they were both too proud to remedy it._

_Finally, when Hades left Demeter again to her beloved nature, he returned to Erebus alone. He was now aware that convincing any woman to live there would’ve been difficult, perhaps impossible without imposing a cruel kidnapping and then captivity._

_But Hades wasn’t Zeus and he wasn’t even Poseidon: he didn’t possess the same wicked passion of the former, nor the bold seductive powers of the latter. That’s why, with Demeter's refusal, he knew that the Adamantine Crown would’ve had to wait a long time to find a bearer._

_1054 YEARS TO THE KNOT_

_Everything had already happened._

_Humans had begun to walk upright, they had worshiped the Gods, other Gods were born and other Symposia had been held. Then, another blink, and it was all over. No more temples, no more sacrifices or feasts in their honor. New religions were facing the world and the Wheel of Fortune had turned: during that last slice of history it had smiled on the monotheisms and oblivion sleep had fallen on the oldest Gods._

_Not that Hades cared about it._

_In any case, humans had never prayed to him, even when they had believed in their religion. He was settling for the souls of the atheists in that period: if there’s one thing that the Wheel teaches, it’s that everything flows, it’s enough to wait and everything returns._

_Πάντα_ _ῥεῖ_ _. Panta Rhei._

_This is how Hades had managed to become a master of long, long waits. Erebus was a kingdom which claimed patience, and that was another reason why Demeter would’ve never felt at home. Only now Hades could understand it._

_In any case, the two siblings had never reconciled. They hadn’t seen each other for hundreds of thousands of years, limiting themselves to meetings at Symposia, which were always very cold. The new Gods, those of the generation of Apollo, Eros, Hermes, Dionysus and all the others, had started to gossip about their antipathy, unaware of what was behind it._

_But Hades hadn’t reproached them. He had never complained about anything, because Erebus still shone and that was fine. It was his life, by now: rich and yet futile, surrounded by servants and yet so lonely._

_He was thinking of this while, tormented, he watched the Elysian Fields from the terrace of his luxurious quarters. Leaning against a column after a meaningless night of love, he was half naked to enjoy the pleasant breeze. He watched the same landscape he had made for Demeter and which she had despised._

_Her indignant expression still hurt, as if not even a day had passed. And the Adamantine Crown was still without a Queen to wear it._

_Hades sighed, closed his eyes, pretended to be a child again. Everything was easier when he could keep his eyes closed and pretend problems didn’t exist. He could imagine that Time wasn’t always running after him, never giving him respite._

_"My King?"_

_Hades turned. He saw the naked body of Leuce, the nymph, his concubine. One of the many, for the truth. Her slender body with pale blue edges was a delight for the eyes: she had been the most beautiful of the Nereids when she was young. Even now that Time was becoming too heavy on her shoulders, she was beautiful. But mortal, nevertheless: she had never seemed as ephemeral as that night._

_"My King, still awake?" the woman asked, gentle as the mellow waves of low tide._

_"Always awake."_

_Leuce lowered hers pointed ears and folded them back, in a lively expression despite her age. Hades saw her walking sinuously along the room, swaying, her clear breasts not as firm as they used to be._

_"Haven't we tired you enough?"_

_"It's not your fault. It's just that I don’t like to sleep, Leuce, today as twenty years ago. And yet, you never stop scolding me."_

_"My job is to please you, don't be surprised if I try my best. Tell me, what are you doing here so melancholy? Didn't you like the new girl?"_

_Hades shrugged, as if to say that that wasn’t the problem. Leuce approached his side and began to stroke his bare bicep. She was cold, it was like being caressed by the sea foam._

_"Your girl is very pretty." The God murmured, quiet, trying not to wake the other concubines sleeping in his bed._

_"But?" Leuce urged, convinced that after all there was a problem with the new one._

_Hades looked down, as he did when he was afraid of hurting his interlocutor._

_"She was shaking like a leaf. You all shake like leaves. No matter how hard I try."_

_And it was true. Hades didn’t love them, perhaps, but he felt for them all great respect and sincere affection. It was thanks to them that he hadn't spent those secular nights alone, after all. Some were also good companions in other contexts, intelligent, he loved relaxing with them in the thermal bath, discussing, hearing them telling jokes. In return they lived well fed and happy in the luxury of the court: it was a win-win situation._

_But still it wasn’t idyllic. Concubines weren’t Queens. They couldn’t help him to support the weight of Erebus, he had never found the one that at first glance could be worthy of that role. Even if he wanted to promote one of them, they were all mortals. And then, the first emotion they had was always terror, when meeting him. There had never been a woman who hadn't trembled at the prospect of lying with him, no matter how many preambles in between, how many courtesies. Learning to hide disappointment when it happened didn't mean he didn't feel it at all._

_Leuce opened heris eyes wide and tried to dissuade him from his melancholy._

_"Oh, no, no! We’re not afraid of you, my King: we know you, we know that you’re a good master. The new one isn’t used to it, but she will learn to love you. Look how quiet she is now, she's not scared."_

_Leuce nodded toward the bed and Hades followed. He saw the new nymph (Pheobe… was that her name?). She was sleeping naked and blissfully between the other two, crossing one leg over the thighs of the girl to her right. They were so beautiful. Almost innocent._

_Hades sighed again, feeling like an intruder in his own room._

_"She has tried not to run away all along. She hasn't even looked at me."_

_"You must be patient, my King. It was her first time with us."_

_"Yes, I know. And now you’ll tell me that it’s because of my stature, my eyes, I know that too. But anyway, I’m getting tired, Leuce. Please, understand me."_

_"Tired of what? Of us all? Of the girls I find you?"_

_No, not tired of them. Tired of everything._

_He was tired of spending his nights with more women than hours available to satisfy them. He was tired of feeling lonely, even though they were so many. He was tired of thinking about the Adamantine Crown and how it wasn’t suited to any of the concubines. He was tired of meeting girls shivering before him, girls that eventually ended up knowing him, maybe falling in love, just to die a blink later. He was tired of loving them only to see them become souls in such a short time. He was tired of being the one to judge them in court once they passed and pretend not to feel anything. He was tired of lying with them and feeling like he was wasting precious time. He was tired of seeing them pretend to need his sterile seed, when they asked him to fill them or when they knelt before him and incited him during orgasm._

_He was tired, yes. He was tired of many things._

_He was tired, above all, of that endless search for someone who could understand. Someone that could sustain all the terror of Erebus without trembling. That could be at his side in that infinite solitude._

_Hades smiled sadly as he watched the cavernous winds of the Elysium ruffle the nymph's deep blue hair. Like thousands of years before he had done with Demeter, he brought a lock behind her pointed ear. And it was there that he was sure that he couldn’t keep going on like that._

_"Look at you" he whispered lightly, "seems like yesterday you were a little girl and now wrinkles are already framing your eyes. I’d swear on the Styx that only a few hours have passed since Poseidon brought you here. But more than twenty years have passed and you’re already in the middle of your life" he paused and peered into her contrite expression, "You’ve been a precious friend, Leuce, and I know you’re trying so hard to find other girls because you know you can't be with me forever. But now it's time to stop."_

_He read the disappointment in her eyes of water._

_"You’re the last who should fear death, why do you talk like that?"_

_"Because death is terrible for those who don't understand it, and I don't understand it at all, my friend. You all leave so quickly... I don't have time to learn your names and you’re already souls in the Elysian Fields, enjoying the right rest and forgetting about me. So tell me, what's the point of this useless procession?"_

_But Leuce was an intelligent nymph, Hades appreciated her for that quality. She didn’t strive to tell him she would’ve loved him forever and even after death, in fact, because she knew it wasn’t true. What she did, however, was to hug him tight, squeezing his muscles in a grip that felt like embodied water. She rested her cold head on his navel and sighed affectionately. Perhaps even in love._

_Hades laid a hand on her head, stroked it to soften the words he was about to say. Then he gave his order:_

_"Bring them away when they wake up."_

_He felt her tighten more. She was crying now, he could feel it from the way her shoulders hopped._

_"My King, please, don't..."_

_"It's not a punishment. I'm not sending you away because of negligence, on the contrary, I'm not even sending you away. The gynaeceum is yours and it will be so for the entire duration of your lives: you can stay at court, it's not a problem. But I need to be alone. Please, respect this choice of mine, even if you cannot understand it."_

_Leuce nodded frantically, still in contact with his skin, her cheek rubbing on his hard abdominals._

_"You’re such a lonely man, my King" she spoke, between sobs, "don't look for more isolation, please."_

_But Hades smiled bitterly. He made her detach from his body, he lowered himself to see her closer, to enjoy the details of that face that was and always would’ve been so beautiful, despite her age._

_"To be a God means to be alone."_

_And he kissed her. He gave her that kiss to show gratitude, to make her understand how important she had been, how important they all had been... but not enough to hold Erebus._

_When he pulled away, he smiled at her and told her to go back to sleep. He promised that everything would’ve looked less sad after a night of rest. Then he followed her with his eyes as she went to lie down on the bed with the other three, for the last time._

I love you, Leuce.

_He didn't say it._

_89 DAYS TO THE KNOT_

_Each night spent alone seemed longer than his entire life._

_The silence was heavy, almost tangible, it had taken the form of a black monster filling the whole room in every corner. Hades had always been at ease in the silent darkness, he didn’t fear that enemy. But he had always thought of facing it side by side with a Queen, and a wife._

_During the day it was better. Working distracted him: had it been for him, he would’ve preferred to keep the incessant rhythm of those who have all the eternity available and no physiological need to satisfy. But at that time the souls were few and in any case the employees weren’t like him, they needed schedules and rest. And then at night everything slowed down. Hades hated the empty court, he hated the futility of sleep and, above all, he hated clocks, and all the mortal technologies which measured Time and reminded him of his father._

_He hated Time. He mortal technology. He also hated the telephone that now was ringing in the depths of his solitude, suspicious for that late hour._

_Hades turned in his chair and looked at the troublemaker. It didn't show the incoming number, but it didn't matter: just looking at it, Hades knew who was hiding at the other end. He also knew that, if he answered, he would’ve quarreled. But fighting was always better than getting bored all night, like every night, and then he picked up the phone and held it to his ear._

_"Hello?"_

_Silence on the other side. If he sharpened his hearing, Hades could sense the heavy breathing of the other person, so mechanical and unnatural filtered through that mortal device._

_"_ Hades? _"_

_Demi. Her voice. Mild, serene, yet powerful, like the first time he had heard it._

_"_ _Γειά_ _σας_ _,_ _Δημήτηρ_ _. It’s been a long time."_

_The greeting sounded too formal, Hades knew it. Good: that was the purpose. She had to know that hundreds of thousands of years of dislike and insults to Erebus for couldn’t be canceled with a phone call in the middle of the night._

_"_ Γειά σας _" Demeter adapted to his formality but not to his coldness, sounding contrite, "_ Did I wake you up? _"_

_Hades chuckled bitterly, in a bad mood, lips closed._

_"No. I still haven't changed my mind about sleeping."_

_"_ How... how are you? _"_

Lonely _, he wanted to say._

_"Good. You?"_

_"_ Good. _"_

_Pause. It wasn’t easy to start talking again after so many centuries. Demeter still sounded like then, like when they were children. But they were no longer children. They couldn’t pretend that Time had stopped in that cave, when Hades had opened his eyes the first time._

_The God decided to encourage her, he didn't like that she was silent._

_"What is it, sister? Why do you call at this hour?"_

_On the other end just a noise, as if she were sniffing, as if she had just stopped crying._

_"_ Ah, it’s just for work _" she clarified, "_ I wanted to ask what you’re going to do with the Great Symposium. You'll be there, right? _"_

_Hades leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, reasoning about the answer. He rested the receiver on his shoulder, exhaling nervously, then returning it to his ear when he was ready._

_"I don’t think so. My position is clear already, there’s no need to repeat it for the umpteenth time."_

_"_ This time the vote will be by majority of those present, not like in '45. If you want to have your say, you'd better be there. Honestly, I don't understand how you can be so deaf to the problems knocking on our door. _"_

_"Did Zeus ask you to convince me?"_

_It was a genuine question. It was possible. Zeus knew he had little bite on Hades, and he also knew that Demeter had always been his weakness._

_"_ No _" she replied angrily, "_ I called you by my will, because I consider the issue important. This time it's too serious to ignore it _."_

_"Two towers have fallen, Demeter. More important ones have fallen in history and others will fall."_

_"_ It's not just two towers, you know it too; and they haven’t fallen, they’ve been taken down. Humans have never had a destructive power like they have now and... _"_

_Hades chuckled without irony._

_"Ah, sister. Here you understand what I told you two hundred thousand years ago. These humans don't seem so harmless now, do they?"_

_Silence on the other side. Hades wondered if he had offended her to such an extent that he had again caused her to cry. Instead, a little later, her voice came strong and thundering, as when she had forced him to open his eyes._

_"_ You were right. Is this what you want to hear? All right. Humans are scary _" she admitted, she was logical for once in her life, and Hades appreciated it, "_ what is worse, is that they keep killing in our name. This has to end, that's why we have to reveal ourselves, you know it _."_

 _"This is a big mistake. First: I have no interest in peace, unlike you I’m not that scared of dead people. Second: religion is nothing but an excuse, as it was for the Crusades, as it was for Hitler. There are the usual political interests at stake and revealing ourselves will change nothing, if not to make our job impossible. Third: we have already talked about this after Hiroshima, very well. Tell me, what's changed? A bunch of Americans have died, so it's more serious? They don't even believe in us, I don't understand why you care so much. The ones you call_ not just two towers _, are really just two towers, Demeter. We shouldn't be interested, they’re not even in our jurisdiction."_

 _"_ You speak like a monotheist _."_

_"I speak like you should speak too. And why don't you give me credit? I predicted this and other tragedies two hundred thousand years in advance and you didn't believe me. Now I'm telling you that the best choice is not to reveal ourselves, but you still treat me as if my power were worth nothing compared to a stupid atomic bomb, or a hijacked plane. I don't understand you, sister. I just don't understand you."_

_But arguing with Demeter had always been difficult and centuries hadn’t made her more malleable. In fact, as always when she felt trapped by the argument, she cut short and ended the conversation, stubborn._

_"_ I’ll vote in favor, I’ve already decided and I know that many others think the same as me. 2001 will be the year of Divine Revelation, I feel it. If you want to have your say, this time you have to show up, or the decision will be taken without you _."_

_"I’ll come" Hades reassured her, "but nothing will change, neither I will give you my endorsement nor will I be able to change your mind. On one thing you're right, Demeter: the decision is already taken. And I’m trembling for the consequences. Especially for you… living out there."_

_It was the truth. Demeter had no idea how humans could become demanding, if they knew who she was. But she took that last sentence like the umpteenth reference to the fact that she hadn't wanted to live in Erebus, so she became even colder._

_"_ All right, Hades, I put up with you enough for today. See you in December. Goodnight _."_

_And she hung up, leaving him alone again._

_3 HOURS TO THE KNOT_

_The Great Symposium for the Revelation was held in Norway, in one of the houses of Odin, on an island in the Hellefjorden. The place had been chosen randomly among the major Gods, and later the Allfǫðr had said he was honored to host the largest infra-pantheon event ever held._

_There was really everyone in that semi-dark room, modern in architecture but traditional in decoration, with runes and carved weapons hanging on the walls. Those present were varied and colorful: there were all the components of the Classical, Nordic, Egyptian, Native American, African Animist, Shinto, Indonesian, Hindu Pantheons and many others. And yes, there were also the monotheists, a unique event: the Unique Jewish God, the Unique Muslim God, easily recognizable because they had no physical form; they didn’t reveal themselves to anyone, not even to the other Gods, and they usually appeared as a halo of light. Since their strategy was to declare themselves unique, it was obvious to everyone that they would’ve voted against the Revelation._

_Those present, in all, exceeded a thousand. But the room, built as an auditorium for conferences, contained them all widely. On the central podium, a large table with the landlord, Odin; at his side the blonde Frejya, her hair knotted in a thousand braids and decorated with clips with runes; to the right of the couple, Thor, restless; finally, behind them, the Valkyries standing, in a row, straight like soldiers._

_Hades, in mortal clothes and sunglasses so as not to disturb some God who had never had the bad luck to meet him, took his place next to Anubis. The jackal that day was serious, and it was strange to see him like that. He was scared. He was huddled in the armchair with his nose pointing down and his ears bent backwards._

_Hades knew only by seeing him that he would’ve voted in favor._

_When they were all seated, Odin stood up. In his long white and braided beard he resembled Zeus, but he was more serious, more regal. He spoke in his language, but every God understood it, because there were no idiomatic barriers between almighty beings. This obviously didn’t mean that there weren’t many other barriers, of different kinds._

_"Gods, thank you for being here today, December 15, 2001, in modern western notation. We’re here to discuss about the Divine Revelation and, in the case of majority of votes in favor, the consequent action plan. The vote will be by an absolute majority of those present, which means half of us plus one. We will begin to discuss disciplined and wisely, without dishonoring each other. Who wants to talk, talk now."_

_Of course they were all very, very eager to have their say, and it would be impossible to disentangle all the individual motivations that emerged that day. But Hades, always silent, good listener, identified the main parties._

_On the one hand, there were the polytheists, almost all of them pro Revelation, for reasons that had little to do with September 11th: for many of them, the main purpose was to regain faithful, since humans no longer believed in them; they all knew that that was the occasion to get back the prayers of which they felt implacable thirst._

_On the other hand, the monotheists and few of the others: Ares, the Morrigan, many Deities of war. This was the least cohesive faction for reasons: the only thing they agreed on was being against the Revelation. The monotheists couldn’t allow that other Gods proved their existence: even just the revelation of one deity would’ve forced them to come out too, and one of their religions’ main tenets was indeed blind faith. The Gods of war, chaos or death, on the other hand, were against the Revelation just because they believed it would’ve leaded to lasting peace and it wasn’t in their best interest._

_The debate, although Odin had asked to keep it calm, wasn’t calm from the beginning. In a very short time opinions began to overlap each other, then they became insinuations, then they became real insults._

_"I don't care about Americans" shouted Ares at one point, supported by the Morrigan, Loki, Eris and other Gods of chaos, "they don't even pray to us, let them die, let them invade territories! War is fundamental, it controls the number of these humans, prolific as rats."_

_"It’s not a matter of Americans or Europeans or Asians" said one of the Hindus, whom Hades didn’t even see in that confusion, "it’s about doing the good of the world that we all share. All our religions devalue cruelty, so we should all agree on revealing."_

_"The vote is flawed at the base" the monotheists argued, "we’re in the minority by definition, our vote cannot count as just one of yours, beloved polytheists. We’re also close to Holy Christmas, you cannot create so much clamor in this sacred period."_

_"Shut up!" Again Ares, which was against the monotheists though they were his own faction, because he was against everything and everyone, "you stole us our sacred feasts thousands of years ago, if we’re not revealing it’s not to honor your Christmas!"_

_"You’re also imposing the calendar notation!" A Japanese Shinigami complained._

_From that moment on, it was difficult to follow the discussion, even for a God like Hades. Indeed, especially for someone like him. So many people in a single environment destabilized him, because he saw them all in different colors: the certainty that he had accumulated was too much and it was hurting him._

_He sighed, silent, perhaps the only one in there, together with Anubis. Demeter was also shouting something, from her distant chair, facing the monotheists._

_"Gods" the jackal complained stealthily, "sometimes I’m ashamed to be part of our category."_

_Hades turned to him sympathetically._

_"Are you okay?" He asked as a good friend, because he knew the answer was negative._

_"No" the jackal replied, growling, "too much shouting, my ears hurt."_

_Hades reached out and squeezed his shoulder to cheer him up, while the debate still raged around them. Hades didn't understand why, really. The Gods were all very stubborn, no one would’ve changed their mind after, so why argue? Why not just vote?_

_"You're still against it, aren't you?" Anubis asked suddenly, contrite, as if he was afraid to introduce the subject, and losing a friend._

_"I'm against it, yes. Although I’m sorry to be of the same opinion as a lesser and chaotic God as Ares, to be honest."_

_Anubis chuckled without emphasis. He returned immediately serious, even frightened._

_"Would you consider me silly if I voted in favor?"_

_Hades looked at him, shook his head. Anubis was his friend, since the first congress of Gods of the afterlife in history. Hades was aware of provoking in him a certain reverence, due more than anything else to the infra-pantheon hierarchy; but he didn't want to give him to think that he could deny a friendship just for a discordant opinion._

_Hades therefore reassured him:_

_"I already know you’ll vote in favor, Anubis. You need prayers, I know you. But that's okay, I don't care. Vote as you wish."_

_Anubis smiled, in that ambiguous and animalistic way. Then he moved and Hades knew that one of his explosive emotions was about to arrive: he reached out and hugged him. He squeezed hard, tapped his shoulders._

_"Thank you, you’re a good friend" the jackal said, speaking in his ear, "may the Mysteries never divide us, brother."_

_For a moment Hades was dumbfounded by Anubis’ way of defining him. Then, however, he realized that he had never heard Zeus or Poseidon calling him that, with such a sincere and affectionate tone. He would’ve wanted to meet Anubis much earlier, as a child, and face Cronus with him._

_Hades hugged him in turn._

_"They won’t, brother. This is also something I already know."_

_They smiled at each other and, once they broke away, decided by mutual agreement to keep quiet from that moment on, to follow the debate._

_In the end, when the discussion was too long and too intense, the Gods started to stand up and Ares had given reason to think he wanted to skin someone. No one was even listening to the orders of Odin, trying to calm them down. Then Thor, to help the Allfǫðr, wielded the mighty hammer on the table, breaking it in two pieces._

_At that point, it was obvious that continuing to insult each other was useless. They might as well have voted. And they did it, finally in silence, all aware of the sacredness of the moment._

_It was a sea of raised of hands for the votes in favor. They didn't even need to be counted singularly._

_Unlike the 1945 Symposium, the majority was clear. In the same way as in 1945, however, the reaction following the vote was explosive: the losers were indignantly protesting, the winners were telling them to stay in place and accept the will of the Symposium._

_Hades, on the other hand, said nothing. He left them to their anarchy and stood up, serious, unchanging as he always was, straightening the sleeves of his suit jacket. He started to leave._

_"Hey, don't take it personally" Anubis stopped him, his ears still bent, "don't be so pessimistic, maybe it'll be good for you too. Erebus will have more souls if more humans pray to you."_

_Hades smiled, appreciated the fact that Anubis wanted to soften his misfortune. But he shrugged, turning serious._

_"I’m not angry" he ruled, "the decision is wrong, but it’s taken and I respect the Symposium. I just hope for you that it will be worth it."_

_He tapped him on the shoulder and left him at the rest of the meeting, which was even more challenging than it had been until then._

_THE KNOT_

_As soon as he was out of the room, he felt better. He finally was able to breathe again: just like when he was escaping from Cronus, holding his breath so as not to be heard, then sighing as soon as he knew he was out of danger._

_He took off his sunglasses because he could see even less than usual, he didn’t want to get lost in the confused environment. There was no one, they were all inside the hall, so he wasn't afraid of bringing terror: he put the glasses in his pocket, thought he hated them and, finally, started walking down the corridor, trying to find his beloved and hated solitude._

_He walked for a long time, slowly, at ease in that big house, because even Odin was very tall and had been generous on the height of the ceilings. Eventually, when he decided to stop for a moment, he was in a hallway that had a beautiful view on the North Sea, with a large window and a handrail to lean against and admire the ocean._

_The God froze, surrounded by the grayish light of the Norse December: leaden sky, full of snow about to fall, and impetuous, dark sea water. Those cold abysses made him feel somehow at home, and the sea foam reminded him, for a moment, of Leuce. He remembered of when she had died, fearing for her own judgment, and when she had finally earned the Elysian Fields, choosing however the shape of a tree for her eternal rest. He had never spoken to her again. He missed her so much._

_He remained motionless for a long time, admiring the water that broke angrily on the black and sharp rocks, spraying a few drops even on the window of the panoramic hallway. The waves became more and more violent, the sky darker: Thor had to be very angry, perhaps a storm was coming by his hand._

_And then, like that, suddenly._

_Not a thunder, but a voice._

_"Ciao."_

_Nothing else. Just that little hello, behind him. It had been sweet, it had felt hot, youthful. It was a little girl._

_What was a little girl doing there?_

_Hades stiffened. He didn't like children. He wasn’t at ease with them, neither human nor divine. He didn't know what to say in their presence, he felt too formal, too stupid._

_He swallowed, hoping some other voice to come. But no one else spoke. At that point he knew he had to turn around: maybe the little one was lost._

_Still looking at the sea, he took his sunglasses from his pocket and put them on. A new Goddess, assuming that she was a Goddess at least, certainly had never seen him in the eyes and it wasn’t a good idea to put her to the test at such a young age. Although, it was strange, she had spoken Italian... she had to be from the Classical Pantheon, why didn't he know her? She must have been a very distant relative, fourth generation probably, daughter of minor Deities._

_To find out who she was, however, he had to turn around. Then, when he had his glasses again, he did._

_And he was dazzled._

_He stopped, took a step back._

_A blow right in the chest._

_A child, that's who he was in front of. Three, four years, maybe? Or at least, she looked that age. She was so short that she didn't even reach mid-calf, she was nothing more than a tiny dot in the middle of that gray corridor._

_But she was clear._

_He could see her well. Very well._

_As he had never seen even Demeter._

_He could see everything of her, even at a distance, as if she were very close. He saw every single curly lock of hair, every single pore of her skin, every single freckle, every single streak of her irises. He had never seen anyone so well, and even with glasses on._

_Hades felt a sort of panic rise in his throat. Time. The Time that was always behind him had just stopped._

_He could no longer escape._

_"Ciao!" The girl repeated, pink lips, looking at him with her head tilted._

_Hades tried to return the greeting, but he didn’t make it. The words, as often in his life, didn’t come out the way he wanted. Instead of greeting her, in fact, he asked her an uncomfortable question:_

_"Who... who are you?"_

_But the child, indifferent, didn’t answer. She remained there motionless, standing but still tiny, tormenting her own hands and flicking her green and brown eyes right and left, as if she wasn’t paying attention._

_Hades looked around, but saw no one with her. She was alone, appeared out of nowhere._

_He tried to be brave, and it was more difficult than standing in the way of Cronus' claw: he took a step closer, then lowered himself on one knee, bent his back as much as he could to talk to her._

_Having her close was the fatal shot._

_It was her._

_He knew._

_The immortal Goddess he had always been looking for, since the beginning of time._

_The certainty had fallen on him all at once and he had never, never thought it would’ve been for a Goddess so young, in the middle of the northern sea._

_She, in response, unaware of all the thoughts that were crowding his ancient mind, approached in small steps. She had flowers in her hair, all different from one another, all open as if it were always spring for her. She was intrigued, concentrated, not at all intimidated._

_When she reached him, she stared at him. Hades was so unaccustomed to it that he felt uncomfortable._

_"Aren't you afraid?" He asked incredulous, because she was the first._

_The first, in many, many eras._

_She shook her head._

_"No."_

_"Are you... are you alone? Where’s your mother?"_

_Instead of answering, she turned the question over. And it hurt very badly._

_"Are_ you _alone?"_

Yes _, he wanted to say. And, for the first time in his life, he felt he could be honest._

_"You have no idea how much, little girl."_

_He felt tears press behind his eyelids. It didn't happen often._

_He had to bring his thumb and forefinger behind his glasses to wipe his eyes. All the loneliness, all the certainty, all the weight of the centuries was falling on him at the same time, at the sight of a Goddess who carried within herself the strength to hold up the Adamantine Crown._

_At that point, daring, seeing him sad and holding back tears, the little girl stretched a chubby hand upwards, towards his face. She tried to grab his glasses and almost managed to remove them, but Hades held them in place, quick._

_"No, no. Don't take them off."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because you’re too young for these Mysteries."_

_"What are the Mysteries?"_

_"Oh, well, they’re... it’s just that... my eyes are ugly."_

_Only the Styx could have known how much Hades wanted to remove them and look at her, without filters, to appreciate all the nuances of her flowers. But he couldn't, really. Then he got up, settling himself and wiping his tears quickly, because he didn’t want someone to see him like that._

_"You really have to tell me who you are, little girl" it came out a little too dry, sententious, as an order, then he hurried to soften his tone, "Do you want to tell me your name? Who’s your mother?"_

_But she ignored him again. Instead, she leaned toward the sea, placing her palms on the window and breathing on it._

_"I saw a monster!" She said cheerfully, and for a moment Hades feared she was talking about him, "In the sea, a monster. I followed it."_

_"Chasing monsters is terrible attitude."_

_She didn’t care, she was curious about the sea. So, Hades went next to her. He picked her up and lifted her, making her sit on the wooden railing, to better admire the outside._

_"A monster, you say?" He urged her to speak, to keep her busy._

_"Yup. A_ sarpent _."_

_"It’s serpent."_

_"A_ sarpent _." She repeated, scolding him._

_Hades chuckled and gave up._

_"Well, that_ sarpent _is Jörmungandr, he's here for the meeting. He's the one making the waves, you know?"_

_"No. The wind makes the waves."_

_"Oh. Sorry."_

_She certainly enjoyed discussing._

_He looked at her better, keeping her from falling, and he noticed her color, her aura, something he had never seen in anyone. An unknown color. Very beautiful._

_"I bet I can guess your name, if you don’t want to tell me."_

_She shrugged, unconcerned. It was as if, indeed, she didn't know her own name._

_Then Hades stared at her longer to peer into her soul. He saw her empathy, her power; he saw her duality, her mercy and her terrible, even destructive wrath; he saw her nature of chaotic Goddess, so different from him, rector of neutral balance; he saw her intelligence, her tendency for the word he didn’t have; he saw her logic, her passion, her incredible ability to love things out of the ordinary. And then he knew her name._

_"_ _Περσεφόνη_ _, Bringer of Chaos" he would’ve never expected such a meaning for the Queen of Erebus, "where have you been all this time? I’ve never heard of you, Persephone."_

_And finally, at that very moment, another voice behind him. Suddenly, it was as if the idyll were broken, a moment completely shattered._

_"That's not her name."_

_Hades turned, having already recognized the voice of the newcomer. In fact, as soon as he was turned around, he saw Demeter, standing in the middle of the hallway, arms folded and a stern look. The little girl came to her senses: she wanted to go down and Hades put her back on the ground. She ran to her mother, and Demeter let her hug her leg._

_Hades remained rigid, motionless, struck by the revelation that Persephone was precisely his sister's daughter._

_Ironic._

_"Demi, you... you didn't tell me you had a daughter."_

_"Would you have cared?"_

_Well, yes. Why did she always have to underestimate him?_

_"I always care about the family. If I had known, I would’ve congratulated. Who’s the father?"_

_"There’s no father. I just had her on my own. I was feeling alone and she arrived."_

_Ironic, more and more ironic. She was feeling alone, and Persephone had arrived. Now he was the one feeling lonely and Persephone had appeared in that corridor, without fear, without reason._

_"She’s Kore." Demeter said, holding her tight, cuddling her flowery head._

_"Kore? Little girl? She can’t keep that name forever."_

_"She’ll be eternally young, she’s the Goddess of Spring."_

_"Oh. How much... young?"_

_For a moment, he feared the worst._

_"She’s also Goddess of fertility, she’ll become an adult. I think she’ll stop between eighteen and thirty, we'll see."_

_At that point, however, Demeter frowned. Until then she had talked calmly, proud of her daughter. Now, instead, her eyes were widening._

_She understood. She knew too._

_"Hades, why are you asking?"_

_But Hades' lips tightened. He stiffened, tried to look serious and formal._

_He didn't answer, but Demeter understood nevertheless. Her expression turned to fire._

_"You! You saw something in her! You want my daughter? She’s a child, shame on you!"_

_That charge hurt his heart as the wounds of Cronus, certainly it was more painful. Hades stiffened more, holding his anger. He took a single step toward Demeter and it was enough to be close to her, near her face._

_"Be careful about the accusations you make, sister" he hissed, angry, "I don't want little girls, I'd never even think of such an atrocity. You have to stop attributing to me sins you've seen practiced by other Gods, I'm not your sacrificial lamb."_

_But Demeter advanced in her turn, interposing herself between her brother and her daughter as Hades had done between her and Cronus._

_"You disgust me!" She said, cruel, crying, "You’re like Zeus, you’re a man and you’re horrible. She has been on this earth for not even five entire years and you’re already behind her like a hungry wolf! She's so small!"_

_"But she won't be forever, will she?"_

_And then, cold, suddenly, a slap in the face._

_Demeter had never dared so much, she had never hit a brother._

_Hades remained rigid. He moistened his lips, annoyed. He took another step toward her, taller than her, and had to frighten her, because she backed away. She was sure he would’ve returned her violence. But he didn't._

_"I won’t call this hybris, sister" he breathed, slow, threatening, "just because you’re slightly better than a human."_

_Demeter narrowed her eyes, looked like a viper, and her golden irises were poison._

_"And you’re a worthy son of our father. No wonder women don’t want you. You're horrible inside and outside, like him."_

_It hurt. Like the time when she had despised the Elysian Fields, indeed, more._

_Hades clenched his jaw, inhaled. For a moment, just a brief moment, he exchanged a quieter look with Demeter, and it was as if they were both wondering how they got to that point. They had just both expressed the most horrible insult for the other one. How had it happened? How could they have forgotten all that had been?_

_Hades breathed out, looked away. He noticed that she was crying, but he didn't apologize. And he knew that she wouldn’t have done it, either._

_"You know, sister? I'm glad you refused Erebus" he said, "the truth is, you wouldn't have lasted five minutes, you would’ve whined all the time. Your daughter, instead... your daughter bodes well."_

_Demeter bit her lips, gritted her teeth. She pushed him desperately. She cried all her tears and screamed._

_"Leave her alone! You must leave her alone! She’s mine!"_

_"Erebus has her already, neither you nor I can choose" Hades corrected her, cruel, "although you want to consider me bad-intentioned, I tell you that I haven’t seen carnal love in her, I’ve seen much more. I saw a throne and she was sitting on it. I saw the Adamantine Crown on her head and she could hold it. I saw her eating pomegranate six times. I saw the souls bowing to her not as Spring, but as Queen. And then, when she’ll surpass you, you too will bow to her. Queen of Shadows. This is what the Wheel has decided, and you can rant as much as you want, but that's the way it is."_

_Now Demeter was petrified, panting, tears running down on her drawn cheeks: she was aware that she had just heard nothing less than a prophecy._

_There was a moment of silence. Only then, now that Demeter was blocked, Hades had the opportunity to look down: he saw Persephone, hugging her mother's leg, hiding behind it. This time, yes, she was terrified, scared. All the flowers had withdrawn in her brown curls. With big eyes she looked at him as one could look at an angry Titan._

_As Hades himself, in his time, had looked at Cronus._

_The God composed himself, took a step back. He widened his shirt collar, unable to breathe. He knew that, even if she hadn’t been scared of him at firs, now the little girl was feeling the purest terror, and it was his fault._

_He swallowed, he knew he had to leave. He didn't want Persephone to remember him like that._

_He restored the original distance, calmer._

_"Fear not, sister, I’ll wait. I'm good at waiting. I'll step aside, I’ll give you no discomfort. But the day will come when Kore will be Persephone, and then she will come to Erebus."_

_"You're wrong" she replied, stubborn as she had always been, "she’s Spring and I swear, if you try to seduce her, you’ll have to deal with me."_

_But Hades wasn’t worried, because how could he be worried if he had the absolute certainty of all destinies and of the Wheel? In fact, he spread a quiet smile, which made his sister cry even more. Ignoring her, he cast a last glance at the child, because he knew he couldn’t have seen her again for a long time, and he wanted to remember her perfection. Finally, he turned and started to leave._

_"Life will be much easier for you, Demeter, when you’ll understand that you have no power over some things. Enjoy time with your daughter, and in the meantime prepare for the idea that one day she will be the Wife and Queen you didn’t want to be."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, this was THE chapter. Now you know everything. There are just the final chapters left, and in the next you'll see how Persephone will react to all this. Right now, just some explaination about my choices!  
> \- This was such a difficult chapter to write, because of the Revelation, all the pantheons involved, together with the montheisms. All I want to say is that it hurts me that still nowadays humanity finds it so difficult to accept differences. I was born Catholic, now I consider myself neo-pagan and in my real and private life I believe in many things all together. So, this chapter isn't meant to find the "best" pantheon or religion. It's meant to show how varied our world is, and how useless is to argue about beliefs. I tried to be as fair as possible, so please, remember that this is an inclusive story, no matter what your religion is!  
> \- About the monotheists, I wasn't sure how to represent them. I could talk a year about every doubt I had. But what I think it's important to clarify, is that I chose to put together Jewish and Christian religions just because they have the same root, with the sole difference that one believes in a messiah and the other doesn't. So, it wasn't to disrespect or put one in a better position, it was just for the logic of this story, which has a mortal writer, mortal values, a lot of mortal things! I know nothing about the divine world, I'm just someone putting words together. Don't take it too seriously, k?  
> \- The same goes for 9/11. I needed a big turn in history to justify the Revelation, and at first I was about to place it in 1945. Then I understood I needed something way more recent, in order to put in the same period Persephone and Hades first meeting. I was alive and big enough to understand when 9/11 happend, and now I always think about it as a line separating 1900 history from contemporary history. I hope it was a good choice!  
> \- About Demeter and Hades' arguing, I hope I was able to convey the idea that there is no winner. There isn't a real victim, they're both victim of their lack of communication, and they both did and said terrible things. On wattpad for some reason many readers blamed Demeter, but I think Hades has his faults as well, and that's fundamental to make a well-rounded character in my opinion, even if we love him.  
> \- About the greek words: it's always the "ya-sas" formal greeting, it had appeared many chapters ago, so I'm refreshing your memory. The other words are just Demeter and Persephone's greek names. There is also Panta Rhei, but it's explained!  
> \- And last but not least, when I was at that point, I suddenly chose not to translate the "ciao". I don't know, I found it cute. And it's also meant to remind you that every god talks in a different language and they understand each other (for exemple, when Anubis and Hades talk and there's no one else to involve, they usually speak egyptian and greek at the same time).  
> Well, that's it! Sorry for the wall of text, I had many things to clarify.  
> Thank you for reading, and see you next time! *.*


	36. The promised gift

"I had a plan."

These were Hades’ first words, sitting in an armchair with his legs crossed, in front of Persephone. He scrutinized her from afar and in the darkness of their room he was barely visible: there were just his irises, two shining disks of a polar glow.

Persephone swallowed, pushed away from the desk and the computer, leaving the Telematic Loom. Petrified. She didn't know what to think, she just wanted to hear what Hades had to say. Then, without coming closer, she waited for him to explain.

The God, with an expression impossible to decipher, put his hands heavily on the armrests and looked at her steadily.

"I had a plan" he repeated, "it was all about waiting at least a few hundred years. I knew right away who you were and who you'd become, but you were young, and I couldn't be too much around you. I decided not to be around you at all. I didn't want you to see me _too much_ as a family member."

Persephone nodded, empty, unable to untangle her thoughts. She couldn’t form an opinion. Part of her was stuck staring at the computer, and the images of the life of an ancient Cronid passing under her eyes.

"A few... hundred years?" Was the only question she managed to mumble.

Hades' patient and understanding voice came immediately as a soothing medicine.

"I considered it the bare minimum. Four, five hundred years is nothing, _my love_. Time runs fast for us and accelerate as we grow older, soon you too will notice. It wasn't a problem to wait for you to grow up, live your experiences. I’ve been waiting for all my life, after all, and for many years it was just to see the women I loved die. And then you come to me. Immortal. Perfect."

Hades sighed and stood up, slowly, controlled, as if afraid to approach her. He walked with such a caution not to emit noise, until he was close to her. He leaned against his desk, releasing lazy, calm breaths.

"What I hadn’t considered, though, is that you are Spring, impulsive, fierce. Unlike me and also unlike Demi, you’re a deity with a chaotic nature and I wasn’t at all prepared for this. You reappear twenty years old, and then you blow up my beautiful plan."

He laughed shy, bitter, and somehow Persephone managed to get influenced. She spread a smile without effort, unconvinced. Hades, in response, stretched out a hand to brush with his fingertips that delicate spot between ear and neck, which for some reason he loved.

"I entered that university hall and saw you. You thought I didn't recognize you, but how could I? How could I not recognize you, if you’re the only thing I can see?"

Persephone felt tears sting her eyes and, for the first time, decided to let them flow without being ashamed. They scratched her face and, quickly, his thumb ran to dry them on the freckles.

"I was terrified" he confessed, with an open heart, so strange for the Inexorable, "I didn’t expect to see you there, among mortals. It seemed like just a blink of an eye since that day at Odin's house, and suddenly you're there, you're an adult. And you're beautiful. Time has chased me all my life, but from that moment on it keeps escaping from me. And I remember thinking: _if that girl opens her mouth, if she just greets me, I'm doomed_."

His two rows of white teeth stood out in the darkness, as he laughed lightly. He didn’t seem divine at all that night. And Persephone as well had never felt more human, while she was crying, perhaps out of joy, perhaps out of pain, she didn’t know. She remembered sweetly that conference that had changed her life. Or, perhaps, that had just addressed her to an already written path.

"Well, Hades" she sniffed, tears multiplied, "if you were terrified, you were great not to show it, believe me."

Hades chuckled and never took his hand off the side of her face, perhaps to make her feel he was there, for her, and it would’ve been so for the rest of eternity: it didn't matter that their story was so senseless.

"Training" the God joked, "when you have Cronus as a father, you learn quickly to hide fear. But trust me, I was... petrified. While you were talking just to please me, so as not leave me without questions, I saw that tiny little girl who had come to me just because she had felt I was alone. Your empathy has always been strong, even with those who don't deserve it. In fact, no, I don't know if I deserve it after all the mistakes I've made, before you start protesting. And anyway, it’s _serpent._ "

Persephone exploded in uncontrolled laughter and shrugged, tears still copious on her cheeks. She didn't know what to say. She was impressed that Hades was opening up so much; she had never, never in life thought he could explain his feelings so thoroughly, so in detail.

"I... I can't remember that day." It came out automatically. She would’ve liked to remember.

"Maybe it's better this way. It wasn't my best moment. You were very young" he hesitated a little, "you were very young and I was already very old and... I think this also explains why I wanted to take it slow. I’ve always had the certainty of your nature, but... it's not easy, little girl. I saw you that you were a dot in a hallway and it still seems to me it happened a few minutes ago, and... you wanted everything immediately, I mean _physically_ , it wasn't... as simple as I thought, that's it. Forgive me, if I seemed detached. It just happened too fast and I... please, try to understand me."

Persephone frowned, shook her head in pain. The flowers on her head, however, weren’t closed: they were flourishing as if fed by an emotion that the Goddess didn’t know she was feeling yet.

"You could tell me" she reproached him, serious, honest, "you could tell me, and I would’ve understood. Why did you keep it secret?"

"I didn't keep it secret, I just waited..."

"Stop it, Hades. Be honest. Be _truly_ honest, for once."

He swallowed. For a moment he pursed his lips, looked away.

But yes, he was honest:

"I was afraid you would react like Demi. I was afraid you would look at me just like an... old man. Sorry. I’m mortified."

Persephone's shoulders relaxed and at that moment she recognized the emotion she hadn’t yet identified: compassion. Now that she knew how to apologize was significant and painful for him, it became terrible to see him contrite. Somehow, somewhere, there was a child who had never learned to open his eyes.

Persephone rose to her feet, shaking her head. She hugged him, clenched his body tightly. He squinted as she received another hug from him, at the nape of her neck.

"Don't apologize" she consoled him, "don't apologize, that's okay. It's all right this way, you're not an old man. I... I'm so sorry."

She didn't even know what she was sorry for. For everything, perhaps, because empaths are like this: they’re overloaded with universal faults. And then Persephone felt compelled to apologize for Cronus' cruelty, for Demeter's insensitivity to insult the Elysian Fields, for Zeus's vainglory, and finally for Leuce's death. That last one, because she could almost feel her spirit still lingering in that room. Hades, even if he tried not to show it, had loved much in his life and suffered for that love. Persephone wondered how many times he had to say goodbye to a woman, judge her, obliging himself to act stoic and treat her like all the other shadows. Now that Persephone knew that, nothing could bother her anymore. Nothing could put her in doubt about their relationship: true, perhaps Hades had always had a plan, which she had sensed from the beginning as an intangible feeling, aware of being a pawn in a way larger chessboard; And true, perhaps he hadn’t been completely sincere, but at that point he was just a man with nothing left to lose, who had just saw the last possibility in an immortal companion.

How could Persephone blame him for that?

"I'm sorry" she repeated, convinced, but on one thing she had to investigate, and then she introduced the topic, "I'm sorry my mother treated you like that."

Hades made no change: he was the Judge of the Judges and now less than ever he was blinded by personal interests, so he examined the matter fairly.

"She was right about many things, though. I made my mistakes, I tried to make my decisions without listening to her. She just wanted to protect you, I’d do the same for my children."

"I mean, even before. For how she rejected you."

In talking about that subject, Hades had to feel her stiffness in her shoulders, because for a moment he pushed her away. He analyzed her from above, just a moment, aware of the real problem. Finally, he knelt down, as he had done so many times to look less imposing.

"I didn't love her, Kore. And she didn't love me. I asked her to join me because then it seemed the only sensible choice, because it was tradition, because it was convenient, because I needed help for Erebus, because she was the only one available and a billion other reasons, but _not_ because I loved her. I want this to be very clear. There is no competition between you and your mother, you are two different people: I love _you_. Can you believe me?"

Persephone nodded frantically: yes, she believed him. Hades was a cryptic God, but his ambiguity was limited to strategic omissions and he had never told real lies. He would never have dared to lie about such an issue, and even through his irises, two full moons immersed in the dark firmament, Persephone _knew_ that with Demeter there had never been anything. And she was relieved, needless to deny it.

There was a moment of silence between them, which was useful to let their tension settle. It didn't last long, though. In fact, soon Hades became serious, more serious than before. Solemn. King. God. Inexorable.

He put his hands on both her shoulders, delicate. Staying on the ground with one knee, he forced her to take a step back, just one. He wanted space and Persephone knew for what. He was about to do it. What she had feared for days.

Slow, holding his breath as much as and more than her, he raised a hand between them, with the palm stiff and open, facing the ceiling. He used that power of his, which Persephone, until then, had only seen a few times, and only aimed at creating simple diamond dust.

Not this time. It was a much more magnificent performance.

Out of nothing, floating, he created a crown.

A crown that he had always had, kept aside, in a corner of his memory, and which he had never been able to offer to anyone. Like Erebus itself, it was made of dark diamonds; yet it was bright, precious, faceted and neat in its way of being rigorous, like the throne of the King. The diamonds, then, were kept in position thanks to a complex and fine metallic weave, representing dark flowers: spiny vines, asphodels, narcissi, and, in the center, a small representation of the section of a pomegranate.

The Adamantine Crown.

Persephone almost fainted.

She was seriously afraid of falling to the ground. Her legs didn't hold her, her wrists felt like they were made of lead. Her heart, somehow, sunk down, perhaps in the center of the earth, impossible to find.

She had to lean against the desk to steady herself, her eyes bulging: it was really happening. To her. The Goddess of Green Thumb, the one who at fourteen years old used to cultivate mini-cacti in her room under an Apollo Musagetes sexy poster. She, who had done everything possible to mix with mortals. She, who had studied constitutional law on a third-hand book just to exploit the previous underlining. She, who loved to cook vegetarian recipes and who had also smoked some joints. She, who had kissed a girl, she who couldn’t accept her body shape. She, who loved horror books and pastel colors in equal measure. It was happening to her. Just her. She was in front of one of the most challenging crowns and wedding offerings in the history of the universe.

"Oh, _holy shit_." It was all that came out of her, as she put all her weight on the desk and was afraid of breaking it.

Hades, nervous perhaps, excited, chuckled pleadingly.

"Is this all you have to say?"

Well... yes. It was difficult enough to try not to faint, she couldn't even act like the respectable lady he would’ve liked.

She swallowed, trying to compose herself. She looked around a bit, as if to make sure that she was still in the real world. Unfortunately, she was: the dark room which she had shared with Hades so many nights, and that had hosted their love, and which now shone with the only glow of the crown he was offering her on his knees.

"I bet this is the gift you wanted to give me. The one of the gelateria."

Hades smiled slyly.

"I told you would recognize it. And, if I remember correctly, you promised to accept it. Are you one who takes back her promises, Divine Persephone?"

"You… sneaky bastard. You and your damn plan, you had thought of everything."

Hades pursed his lips. He lowered his hand a little with the crown, but just to move to her side, hugging her waist with the other arm. He looked at her: he was still on his knees, yet still a few inches taller. Persephone looked at him in turn, worried, and so closely she knew she was in danger of getting lost in his certainty.

That time, however, he didn't tell her to look away. Quite the contrary.

"Look into my eyes" he asked, "can you see it? Can you see what I've always seen? You are Erebus, little girl. And my plan hasn’t led you here: you’ve led yourself here. So yes, I had big plans for a Queen named Persephone, but I hadn’t considered to love such a beautiful, intelligent and strong woman named Kore. There’s no one who can stay with me on that throne, you are the only one who can do it. I _know it_. You just have to _know it_ too."

Persephone looked at his ancient power and saw what he was talking about, all the certainty he had accumulated over the centuries and in particular in those last twenty years. Could she do it? Could she trust that mirrored confidence?

Maybe yes. She could.

She breathed hard, worried. She stretched a finger, just one, and touched the central gem of the Adamantine Crown: cold as the bident. It would’ve been difficult to carry it. A great responsibility.

"I'm so scared." She wasn’t ashamed to admit it, not even in front of the Inexorable.

He, on the other hand, just nodded.

"Yes. It scares me too, every day, to sit on that throne. But I was hoping we could be scared together. "

 _Be scared together_. Wasn't that the essence of love?

Persephone, even taking herself by surprise, nodded. Because yes, she could. She could be afraid with him for all eternity, she was ready.

In Hades, at that affirmative nod, she saw the purest joy that could cross the face of living being, mortal or divine. She saw him tilt his eyebrows over those eyes that were too far apart, smile with those thin lips under his aquiline nose. And then, impatient for once in his life, he hurried to bring the Adamantine crown on her head.

"No!" Persephone moved quickly, "All right, I accept your proposal, but not tonight. First I want my hearing."

Hades withdrew the crown. His eyes narrowed, playfully accusatory.

"That for Alexios, I suppose."

"Yeah. For... for me, actually. I need it."

Hades nodded gravely. The crown disappeared from his hand: Persephone knew that it had been put away just briefly.

"That's fine" he said, proud of her, "you’ve been a Queen not even for a minute and you’re already giving me orders. I think you’ll keep me subjugated for all eternity, my love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's happening! :D Next chapter, we'll see Lawyer Persie in the Alexios Vs. State of Erebus hearing. There are just two chapters left. I'm crying already, I don't want this to end! D: Luckly, there's so much additional material to translate! Thank you for reading, mortals! *.*


	37. A scent of death and flowers

Persephone was already there, in the court, alone.

That really was a terrifying hour, too late to be called night, too early to be morning: the time when the most grotesque infernal creatures timidly emerged from their dark corners, horned, winged, misshapen, too shy to appear in the daytime crowd; the time when souls still sighed in Dis, unable to sleep as they used to when they were still alive; the time when Morpheus wondered around the court as an invisible fog, spreading scent of poppies: that was the time that the Goddess had chosen to take her place at the counter.

In advance, patiently waiting, in her black peplum.

She had never felt more _herself_ , even though on the outside she appeared to be the opposite.

She was there so early because she didn't want to go in when the room was already populated, so avoiding the parade. Moreover, she wanted to get familiar with the environment, in that focal point in the center of it all. She had been there just a few times, she was nervous.

She wasn’t alone very long, however.

Hades appeared shortly thereafter. Persephone had expected it: she had left him asleep, but he was still a God who didn’t like to rest very much, and not having her beside must have waked him up. Now he was climbing the stairs to go to the throne, neutral and firm, yet with a genuine smile. He was in a good mood.

Without saying a word, he sat on the throne. He was already dressed for the day, he even had the bident: he was already ready to start, he too was early. And an early Hades was as unusual as a late Hades. Probably he too was anxious.

He remained still, staring at her with a smile for a very long time, the long silky locks caressing his shoulders. Then, finally, in a low tone, he hissed something:

"Black suits you."

Persephone bowed her head, pleased. She looked down at herself: it was true, she liked black. She would never have said it. She felt at ease in that peplum that had nothing to do with her mortal mini-dresses, and had nothing to do even with the other inhabitants of the court: too expensive, too elaborate, too luxurious. Still, she felt good.

She wondered if she would still feel good, feeling the Adamantine Crown on her head.

"And that fibula suits you, my King."

She pointed at his shoulder, far away, and the Inexorable smiled. He would never have worn an ornament representing a flower, just a few months before.

Nothing more was said, silence became suspended between them, because they had nothing to discuss in private. Persephone knew it, Hades knew it as well. All the Goddess wanted now was to stay focused on the case, to study her defense going through the papers on the counter. Just for a moment, she wondered internally how hard it would be to convince Hades.

She wondered if he would be firmer, to put her to the test.

She wondered if he would be more docile, to hurry and crown her.

But in the end she knew he would be only fair: as he always was, as she wanted to be.

The courtroom later began to fill up. First came the souls that were to be sorted during the day. Soon after, Orphne, who had finished the internship but lived in Dis, and had come to support Persephone, who had now become a friend. Then, slowly, came the most important personalities.

Demeter arrived, in fact. She entered the main door with her head high up, serious, as rigorous as her brother. Her blond hair was streaked in gold like a wheat field at the end of July, and gathered in updo decorated with ribbons, in ancient style; on her body, a beige peplum, adorned with gold filigrees.

It was the first time that Persephone had seen her mother in traditional attire, and she was shocked. Demeter emanated the same ancient aura of the Inexorable, too light in that kingdom of darkness, as bright as the sun at noon, as powerful as life itself. Persephone, darker in the way she dressed, looked like her negative.

Demeter didn’t disturb, perhaps fearing to distract her daughter: she merely took a seat on the benches, not even the first one, while the souls around her were observing her astonished. The Goddess looked around, then brought her eyes up to the glassy courtroom ceiling, tired.

Yes, she looked tired. Perhaps because of her retaliation against humanity, or the distance of her daughter, or perhaps the whole situation. Persephone imagined that while she was looking at the beautiful ceiling, she was remembering how different Erebus was at the beginning of history, and how wrong she was believing it would’ve never become as bright as Zeus’ kingdom. She, exactly like Hades, had never said anything about her hatred for her brother, but still Persephone couldn’t blame her.

Persephone sighed, looked away and tried to ignore her mother. She didn't want to lose concentration, she could say hello and think about Demeter later. But she was happy to see her there, she felt supported. She loved her so much, and would always consider her the best mother in the world, even with ups and downs.

When the hall was filled and the judges and the Moirai also had taken place, finally everything could begin, Persephone swallowing and trying to find the courage. Lastly, in fact, Alexios' father was brought in, taken from Tartarus and accompanied to the counter.

He was in horrible condition.

Emaciated, paler than the other souls. He no longer had anything physical, what appeared was only a memory of his mortal body. It was possible to almost see on him the weight of Cronus’ terrible power, which he had suffered during that captivity: he was walking bent, kneeling, crushed by the force of a Titan. His watery eyes didn’t seem reactive: he didn’t seem to know where he was.

"Sir? Can you hear me?" Persephone asked when he was beside her, because she wasn't sure of his ability to understand words.

But he surprised her: he looked at her with colorless irises and nodded twice. He knew why he was there.

"Thank you."

"Nothing has been decided yet." She made it clear, she didn’t want to deceive him. Because no, she hadn’t found some kind of overwhelming evidence for his innocence: the case was still ambiguous, and she could work only on some ethical nuances. Even now that the Inexorable loved her, it didn’t mean that he would agree with her.

The man nodded and leaned against the counter. He wasn’t disappointed, he was just grateful to have a second chance. Persephone brushed her hand on his shoulder to encourage him, while she also took her place.

Alexios wasn’t there, to avoid him the pain of seeing his father led away, in the worst case. Eurydice, on the other hand, remained faithful to her vow of silence and immobility and didn’t appear.

Silence reigned all around: there were just the penetrating gazes of the three judges and just below them the three Moirai; the pressing presences of the souls in the rest of the room; and finally, the Inexorable, with the icy bident held tight in his fist, immobile as usual and with the same identical attitude as all the other audiences in history.

He started the session, without any excessive preamble, without frills.

"We’re here, today, for a hearing out of the ordinary for this court" he spoke, calm but thunderous, and his voice echoed between the huge columns, "months ago, the soul of this man was sentenced to two thousand years of Tartarus. However, Persephone, Goddess my niece, believes that the case should be analyzed more thoroughly. Here I grant her an audience and we will all listen to what she has to say. Please, Divine, you can talk."

With a lazy gesture of his clear hand he gave the floor.

From that moment, everything was up to her.

The Goddess felt her anxiety walk her body and settle on her chest, like a heavy rock sediment that prevented her from breathing. But she didn't want to show it: she breathed in, rested her trembling wrists on the railing of the bench.

"Thank you, your majesty. I’m aware that this is unusual, I’m grateful for the opportunity."

There was a moment of silence, Hades said nothing. But now the Goddess knew him: she knew his metallic and imperceptible way of curling a corner of his mouth, and she knew it was a smile. As if he wanted to say: _well, Divine, not that you left me much of a choice_ , a comment that he would’ve reserved for a more private moment. He remained stoic and cold, and Persephone knew that she should begin the speech.

She exhaled.

It was time, finally.

"My King, judges of the court, we are facing a _man._ I haven’t spent much time in this realm, but enough to understand that down here you’re not used to the surface’s humanity. This allows you to stay isolated, firm on your ancient laws, and I understand it. But this also cuts out life and in particular the lives of the souls you judge. I don’t mean life as the sum of events, faults and virtues, but as a true _experience._ And no, you don't know the true experience of this man. You don't even know his name, do you?"

She paused so that the message would penetrate. She observed the reactions of those she was addressing: the three judges immediately gave her confirmation of what she was saying, because they were nodding quietly, with the sole exception of the very strict Rhadamanthys; Hades, on the other hand, was staring at her with a calm, defiant attitude. As if to say: _are you really sure that I don't know his name?_ But he wouldn’t have said it, because he couldn’t, they weren’t free as in a verbal challenge in private, and then for the second time he remained silent even if provoked.

Persephone resumed.

"This man’s name is Costa. He was only thirty-nine when he died, but he looked older because he had two jobs, both as a factory worker. His family wasn’t rich, but they loved each other. Costa was a good husband, a good father. He loved Alexios, he loved his wife Margalo, he also loved his daughter who was about to be born, even though he still didn't know her. The newborn is still alive, she’s well and her mother called her Agatha. This leads me to the first point of my discussion."

Persephone paused, turned the page of her notes.

“I used the loom of the Moirai to analyze the reasons behind Costa distraction. I can immediately assure you that there were no aggravating factors: he wasn’t drunk, he wasn’t on drugs. He was just tired. And he was sending a text message."

Another pause, in which Persephone thanked Cate mentally: that path had been suggested by her. She would always feel indebted for her help, precisely because it came from the most skeptical of mortals.

"Costa had just sent a message, and at first I couldn't say why it was so important; it just said: _on my way, I love you._ What I discovered, however, looking back, is that that message shouldn’t be read alone, it wasn’t a casual _I love you_. It was written following a voice call. During this call, Costa was informed that his wife was about to give birth to Agatha, but she needed an emergency caesarean section."

Persephone observed Hades and found him stoic, but the Goddess knew that he really wasn't. If Persephone had been able to give birth to his son or daughter, he too would’ve been nervous, and they both knew it.

"Costa was stressed at the time. He had been told that his wife was in the hospital and was about to go under the knife, so he got into the van as soon as possible with Alexios. And there, Fate wanted that, on a straight road, apparently deserted, appeared a woman on the run, suddenly crossing the street. It is true that he shouldn’t have had the phone in his hand while driving. But it is also true that to err is human" she wondered if she was too daring to quote another religion favorite sentence, "to err is human and Costa was just a father, not almighty like us, who was trying to do his best and who was afraid of not seeing his wife again, or not telling her _I love you_ ever again _._ If he had known of the consequences of that distraction, he wouldn’t have looked at that cell phone. But as you teach me, my King, we cannot live considering _if_ , and we can’t change the past. Therefore, I’m here to ask you: do you _really_ believe that this circumstance deserves the same penalty as an intentional murder?"

Here too, she took a little strategic break. Now, Hades was serious, more serious than normal.

She was succeeding in interesting his judgment.

"This then leads me to the second point of my defense: the penalty. A thousand years of Tartarus, multiplied by two murders, that of Alexios and that of Eurydice. Honestly, I find it _antiquated_ that down here you don't have the distinction between intentional murder and involuntary manslaughter, because in this case it would make a huge difference. I applied the same penalty myself in a case of double voluntary homicide, a man who had shot his wife and daughter. You’ll agree with me that treating two such cases equally is absurd, unjust and unfair. Especially considering that in these events there’s also the figure of Pirithous."

This time, the Inexorable was much less inexorable than usual: he breathed in, agitated, pursed his lips and changed side of support: he would’ve preferred not to talk about it.

Persephone hurried to resume.

"I know he’s not dead and I don’t want to give him any punishment now, it would be unfair because he’s not in our jurisdiction and he’s not even present to defend himself. But he is still a part of this case and judging Costa only because he died first without considering Pirithous would be equally unfair. So, we must also keep this man in mind and yes, we must keep in mind the fact that Eurydice was in the middle of the street because of him."

The Goddess breathed and this time her pause was for herself, emotional. she could still feel the pain of the wound to her head. But she tried to silence it, because she didn't want to be vindictive. She wanted to be fair. And fairness also goes through the suppression of personal grudges.

She licked her lips, tried to be quiet. She was afraid that the memory of how she had chained Pirithous to the chair would make her do the same with the audience sitting on the benches, involuntarily.

"Now, let's consider Pirithous' case for a moment" she resumed, "let's put in an abstraction, let's pretend he died too, for mere example purposes. How would we judge him, if we were to consider only this case? Well, I'd say that more or less he would earn a few centuries of Tartarus, let’s say... three, four hundred years? This is because he was chasing a woman with the clear intent to rape her, and fortunately sexual assault is severely punished too, I'm glad of it. But in any case, it would be almost fifteen hundred years less than Costa's sentence. And what do we notice if we compare the two men? We notice that one was performing a crime, factual, real, and actually caused a car accident by pushing a woman to flee on a highway. But we also notice that he didn’t physically kill anyone. On the other hand, we have instead a good man, who had never harmed anyone in his life and whose only mistake was to get distracted for a justifiable cause, at the wrong time. But the good man is serving a sentence that is four times that of his rival."

Persephone lowered her head a little, tired. Partly for the lack of sleep, partly for the long speech, which was drying her throat. But she knew that even though the hardest part was coming, she couldn't stop now. She had to go all the way through it, and be strong.

"I understand your reasons, believe me. I understand that it’s easier and fairer, in most cases, to take into account facts only, not the conscience of the defendants. I understand that justice is a smoky matter, a blanket that is too short and cannot cover both the shoulders and the feet: if you pull it to one side you do a disservice to the other. I know. But we’re also an otherworldly tribunal and we are judging the very _souls_ in their entirety, not just their actions. In this regard, if you need further evidences on the disparity of these two men consciences, it’s right to speak about Pirithous’ _hybris._ "

This time, everyone started to mutter. Someone sighed agitated: _hybris_ was always a serious word in that room. Hades himself was _visibly_ uncomfortable. It wasn’t a pale emotion that only Persephone could feel: it was palpable, visible to the whole court, to the Moirai and to the judges.

"I know you wouldn't want to talk about it, Hades" Persephone turned directly to him, as a partner, for a moment, and not as a speaker, "I wouldn't want to talk about it either, especially because it's an episode I'm involved in and I don’t want to give the idea that I’m introducing it in a spoiled way, in conflict of interests with you, or to make you feel guilty in your judgment, my King. I wouldn’t want work and private life to overlap. I’m not doing it on purpose."

But Hades shook his head, closing his eyes. He ran a hand over his face, to calm down, then stopped her speech with a nod.

He spoke, and that was the only thing he said in the middle of the speech:

"I don't think your judgment is spoiled. Never. And I don’t think that you’re doing it on purpose: no woman would do such a thing on purpose. Your objectivity isn’t affected, and I don’t doubt it. But you don't have to talk about it."

"But I have, my King. I have, even if it hurts. I’m forced, as I was forced to spill my ichor and like other women have been forced to yield to his violence. Because you see, that was a serious example of something that is ignored down here: all the evil that a person can cause, while doing nothing."

Persephone sighed and waited a moment for Hades to come to his senses. He did: he regained his firmness, channeling all his nervousness into the grip on the bident, while his knuckles became white.

"If we consider only the case of Costa and mine, Pirithous did nothing. He didn't touch Eurydice, he didn't push her, he didn't kill Alexios. He didn't rape me. He didn’t do many things, Hades, but still, he wanted to do them. And now I believe that the aggression towards me wasn’t accidental, it was a will of the Wheel: to allow you to _see_ and understand. To show you how some things do more harm in life than in death and are much more painful with the intention they bring. Intentions that Pirithous had very clear and which he still doesn’t regret, intentions that never existed in Costa's mind. So now, my King, please: look into my eyes. Just do it. And considering what I have told you and what you have seen, tell me: do you think that your sentence is _fair_? Does Costa _deserve_ two thousand years of Tartarus?"

It was done.

She had nothing more to say, now it was Hades' turn.

There were now many conflicting emotions crossing his face and eyes: pride, awareness, remorse, justice. But not confidence. That one was gone. The moment of maximum self-esteem of Persephone was that of less power of the Inexorable. And, in fact the Goddess, looking at him from afar, saw no certainty.

_None._

They looked at each other, exchanged a direct glance and for the first time Persephone found nothing more than two eyes. She found no certainty because she wasn’t looking for it, she didn't need it anymore.

Hades noticed it. He saw his power having no hold on her. And he was happy. He relaxed his shoulders and was freed himself. Lightened by the burden of supplying certainty to others and not receiving it for himself.

"Persephone... Divine, I..."

It was very clear at that moment how that reaction wasn’t voluntary. Perhaps because, until then, he hadn’t yet fully understood what it meant to _share_ power. He had always seen it as a sacrifice to accomplish in order to have a Queen; he hadn’t understood that it also meant getting rid of some of the weight he always carried.

He tried to compose himself, but he never abandoned that calm attitude... it wasn’t his usual quietness, an apparent and controlled composure: he was calm _for real._ As if he no longer had anything to torment him, as if Cronus no longer existed, and the trial was just useless.

"Divine" he resumed, ecstatic, trying to still act formal and professional, "Divine, your intervention was well studied and I cannot express how much I appreciated it, especially for the courage I know it cost you. Not only for what we see here today, I mean for everything: public speaking, telling what happened with Pirithous, your commitment to studying and your... endurance of an old King, who has been really too strict on a few occasions."

The crowd was terrified, especially the judges, who had known Hades for longer. On the contrary, the Moirai were impossible to surprise, because they already knew everything.

"We came here, Divine, you to talk and I to listen, and we were both convinced we had a clear understanding of our roles" he resumed, "but now _we_ both _know_ that whatever I could say would be out of place: a wrong sentence, just like the first one. Because I’m not the one who must pronounce it. Do you agree?"

Suddenly, the whole gravity of what was happening fell upon Persephone like Sisyphus' boulder: Hades didn't want to _impose_ a sentence on her, even if it was in her favor. He wanted _her to make it_. Because, unlike a few months earlier, in which perhaps she would’ve let herself be guided too much by emotions, now Hades _knew_ that she would be fair. He no longer felt the need to show her the middle way, she already knew it by herself.

Persephone swallowed: she knew it was time. She looked back, saw her mother: her eyes were wide, excited, and she was putting a delicate hand on her lips. She was about to cry.

The young Goddess tried to let her anxiety flow away from her body, then decided to move, while everyone present was looking at her; the eyes of the crowd felt like many wasp stings.

She was methodical, slow to not give a bad impression: she tidied up her notes, got off the counter. Finally, she climbed the steps of the throne, raising the dark peplum skirt, being careful not to stumble. For a moment, she wondered where to stop, but Hades signaled her to come closer, to go to him. When she arrived, he stood up, as if he didn't feel worthy to be on the throne without her, now that he had shared his power, even before it became official.

Finally, he turned to her, warm and affectionate as he had never been in public, as Persephone would never have expected on that throne.

"Persephone, say it. What do you think is a _fair_ solution?"

The Goddess made her eyes flicker from him to the rest of the court, and lastly to Costa, who was looking at her, humble. And then she _knew_ what she had to say.

"For the reasons I have explained, Costa must be held responsible for negligence, not for double murder. He still has to expiate, he’s not entirely innocent. _I know_ he himself wants to do it, he needs it, or else he wouldn’t be able to look at his son in the face. But the penalty must be drastically reduced: I suggest fifty years of Tartarus and consequent access to Dis."

"And what else?" Hades urged, because he had to _know_ there was something else.

"Pirithous will be condemned, but I’ll decide on his final destiny when he’ll be here: I’m still waiting for his repentance and it could still come. And then…"

She stopped, looked at Hades sideways, wondering how far she could go. But on his side she found only an endorsement, because she could _give orders_ , now, not just sentences. She was about to express her first wish in the role of Queen. Hades, next to her, didn’t stop her and just signaled her to speak in the direction of the crowd, something she was not yet used to: _towards them, not towards me._

Persephone turned her head and obeyed: she left Hades, stopped seeking authorization and said it:

"... and then, the orphaned children in the Elysian Fields, to protect their own bliss, from now on will be allowed to periodically access the city to see their loved ones again."

The crowd was still, rigid, full of tension. They didn’t seem to understand what was going on. It was too absurd for that court.

"Is it an order, Divine?" Hades asked, and Persephone knew that more than to her it was addressed to all the others, to make them understand how serious he was and that yes, they had understood correctly.

"It is."

"Good. So you've decided."

That was the moment.

The moment when Persephone had a lump in her throat, definitive, as she saw the crowd become more tumultuous. She saw Costa nodding happily, thanking her even though she had left him fifty years to pay for, because those were the right amount he wanted too. She saw Orphne with bulging eyes and straight ears. She saw Demeter confused among the souls, now with both hands over her mouth, aware of what was about to happen.

Hades touched her hand, took it, led her before the throne. He had her positioned straight up and facing the hall so that everyone could see it.

He did nothing at first. Just, he looked at the crowd, reached his sister's golden eyes. In her direction, he bowed his head a little, respectfully.

"I know I never asked, sister, but it's time to do it. Do I have your blessing, Divine Demeter?"

Persephone saw her mother finally moving, shedding bright tears that resembled the same diamonds set in Erebus's vault. Demeter had so often seen decisions imposed on herself by the Inexorable, but now her brother was asking her for a permit, a sign of respect, a recognition of value that he had always denied her. That was enough for her. She had just had the confirmation that no, Hades didn’t want to deceive her little girl.

She just nodded once, agreeing without saying a word.

Hades exhaled with relief and returned to what he was about to do. But he didn't ask her to kneel, as Persephone would’ve expected. He never behaved as if he were granting her his power. It was as if he was taking note of something that was already settled, decided by the Wheel, not by him.

"All those present are called to witness" he said, thunderous, as a King, "you have heard her will and so it will be. From now on, her word has the same value as my word. Today we crown Persephone, Goddess of flowering, of spring and Queen of the Underworld."

And suddenly, something reappeared on the open hand that Hades was offering her: the Adamantine Crown, shining like the first time she had seen it, terrible in its meaning. Dual, white and black, like glory and responsibility.

He showed it to her, just for a moment. Then he did it.

He crowned her.

Incredibly, having it on her head, Persephone was able to think only of how heavy and cold it was, more than she had expected. Although her head was protected by her thick curly hair, the Goddess still felt it as a cold circle in her brain, something that would always remind her that from there on every decision would affect the whole universe.

Hades signaled her to sit on his throne, because there wasn’t a second one yet. Then she did it and thanked him for having made her try it days before, in private, because if it had been the first time she could’ve fainted.

She was there, sitting on an uncomfortable granite throne. Demeter, from afar, genuflected, happy, proud of a daughter who had gone far beyond her expectations, even if following a path she hadn’t expected. And then the souls bowed, respected her as their sovereign. They loved her, unlike the mortals on the surface.

And then, Hades bowed too, like everyone else. Rigor bent to Equity, while he made her his bride and his equal.

Persephone clung to the stone armrests with her hands, trying not to waver, preventing her emotions from coming out, always so obvious, so out of place. She succeeded: she managed to channel everything into her flowers, those in her hair, which bloomed black, stretched like vines and clung to the Adamantine Crown, accepting it, making it their own. _They knew_ her role.

Then, suddenly, a voice. Hades. While still kneeling he spoke softly, just a muttering, so as not to be heard by the others.

"Now _you know._ And everyone _knows,_ too."

She _knew it_ , yes. She had found her role in the universe, and she had found the mortals who could love her and pray to her.

It had really happened, in the end. A controlled yet emotional domain, fair yet impulsive, as only nature can be. Since that day, death started to smell like flowers.

Spring was the Infernal Queen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the delay, my computer has been under "medical treatment" this week and I couldn't translate. Also, this was a difficult chapter, especially for all those legal terms that aren't exactly common language. Anyway, IT HAPPENED! Hope you liked it! The next one will be the final chapter. I'll tell you at the end of it about some news on the book and when it will be published (because it's not a matter of if, but when). And then I'll tell you about all the other works attached to this story (Anubi's spin off and a short story about Hades and Persie in the greek period). See you next time! And thank you so much, as usual! *.*


	38. The paradox of Persephone

Hades was right: the older you get, the faster the years go by. Even with him at her side, even in the always static Erebus, time had accelerated.

It was crazy for Persephone to think that six years had passed already.

It seemed like yesterday that she had been crowned: the first moment when the Adamantine Crown had surrounded her mind and chilled her thoughts. It had been like just one blink since she and Hades had unknowingly exchanged a part of their power; since her own throne had been placed next to that of the Inexorable, identical, equally terrible, equally uncomfortable; since Hades had offered to have her sit on a velvet pillow because of that discomfort, but she had refused; since she had issued her first order as a Queen and since she had started to take care of the souls of the children personally, for the judgments, for their reception in the Elysian Fields, and for their visits to their relatives in Dis.

It seemed like yesterday, yes. And instead, it had been two thousand one hundred thirty days already. Just a few, compared to those that still had to come.

All eternity.

While time flowed ineluctably, as it was for all the Gods, Hades and Persephone remained the same: he was still used to the chiton, still disdainful of technology, still skeptical of the Symposia; she was still cheerful, still impulsive, still young, forever in in her twenties, at least in her body.

A body, in particular, that had never stopped turning on her husband, and she knew it very well. So, sometimes, even though she was Queen, even though she had greater responsibilities than before, Persephone liked to behave like Kore. As in that moment: naked on their bed, late for the opening of the hearings, without any desire to get going and with all the intentions of bringing back an already dressed Hades, who was anxious to go out.

"My King" she teased him while stretching, her bare breasts round and soft, "you're always so punctual, meticulous... no one will die if we delay a few minutes. Well, they’re all dead already, by the way."

She winked at him as she licked her tooth arches in a clever, allusive way. Hades, in his formal suit, couldn't hide his appreciation for that black humor.

He stood in front of the bed, studying her from head to toe, his hands in his pockets and a stern attitude, acting superior. Persephone was used to granting him that behavior just because she knew it gave him desire as well as excellent erections.

"I’m as _meticulous_ in my work as in ourbed, _my Queen._ But if I'm not mistaken, in mortal notation" he pretended to look at his wristwatch, black leather strap and diamonds-embellished hands, "in mortal notation, it’s five minutes to nine and this means it's time for work, not for our bed."

Persephone laughed and rolled her eyes. She didn't move an inch. On the other hand, she put her hands completely on her breasts _absently_ and teased the nipples with her fingers, acting indifferent.

"There are five minutes left. I wonder what the Inexorable could do with his wife in such an abundance of playing time."

She always knew how to annoy him, but this time she succeeded particularly well: Hades narrowed his universe-colored eyes and seemed to clench his fists inside the trouser pockets.

"Uh, somebody’s touchy, my King?"

He didn't bother to defend his manhood, besides, she already knew very well that he could lie tirelessly with her for _days_ if he wanted to. No, he gave up all the excuses, which he considered suited to _inferior beings_ only, and confined himself in his taste for peremptory orders:

" _Get up._ "

"And here we go again, my King. Now you’ll repeat your inexorable directive a couple of times, I’ll disobey, and you’ll feel provoked enough to loose your pants and come here to show me who I’m dealing with. But since _we're late,_ can we jump to the final step for once?"

No, obviously they couldn't. Hades, like all the times in which he felt challenged, became even more immovable and rocky, he didn’t give up in any way: he didn’t go to satisfy the passion they both felt, he didn’t repeat the order as Persephone had foreseen.

But the Goddess now knew her husband and knew herself. _Bringer of Chaos,_ this was the meaning of her name. The name that Hades himself had given her as a child, so now he couldn't complain about it.

She was sure that that would really make him sweat, she leaned towards his bedside table. There was a box of homemade pomegranate-filled chocolates made by her: she had given them to him the day before, but as a good balanced God, Hades had only eaten a couple and there were many left, still in their box.

Persephone placed the box on the mattress, pretending to be indifferent. She grabbed one of the chocolates and ate it. Then, she took another one out and put it on the sheet, on his side of the bed.

"Here, your majesty, there's breakfast for you. If you come here, you can satisfy every kind of appetite, you just have to give in."

His protest came so quickly that it hardly left her with a taste for expectation.

"Is it really necessary to put food on the bed?"

Poor thing, sometimes he had no idea how easy was to trick him. That was exactly what she wanted him to say.

Smiling slyly, she picked up the chocolate in her fingers, saving the sheets. She lay on her back and opened her legs in his direction. There was nothing left to imagination, while she leaned the chocolate on her mons pubis, just in the middle, so _at hand._

Many things were _at hand_ , actually.

"Now it's not on the bed anymore."

She winked again and, from there on, she knew she had won. There was only one thing, in fact, that could equal the pride of the Cronids, and it was their passion: Hades had been well stimulated in both aspects.

He pursed his lips and reduced them to two thin annoyed horizons. Then, uttering a lament that was partly annoyed and partly eager, he finally leaned toward the bed: he knelt there, got down on his hands and knees, reached out towards that part of the body that his wife was putting so well on display. Finally, causing her to tremble, he pressed his tongue against her, along its entire length. When he came to the chocolate, he devoured it, looking at her steadily, his ice eyes framed by darkness trying to scold her for that distraction.

"Very good" she teased, playful, "now we can go, we're late."

"No, no. You forced me to listen to you, now you can't retreat."

He slid over her between her spread legs, until he reached her face to face. Pressing his manhood on her, he grabbed another chocolate and fed it to her, taking care to get his fingers licked.

" _Six._ "He hissed, like he was revealing a secret hidden for centuries.

Persephone frowned, narcissi in her hair more curious than ever. They were almost always narcissi, since they got married.

"I’m used to your Mysteries, my King, but you have to explain this to me with a somewhat more complete sentence."

"Six" he repeated, amused and passionate, "you went down in Erebus for a six-month internship, six years ago, and now six times you ate pomegranate thinking of me, with me and for me. From now on you’re forever bound the Underworld, my Queen."

"I was already."

Hades smiled slyly, lowered his head, his dark curls hiding his eyes.

"Mm" he confirmed, partially, "but in these years you’ve often been away. Graduating, and going to meet the mortals, and your mother's lectures... but I feel like this year you’ll want to stay here."

"This sounds very much like a kidnapping, Hades."

He chuckled, his shoulders moving in rhythm, as he buried his face in her breasts and kissed one of her nipples deeply.

"Yes." He confirmed, when he had broken away.

"Villain."

"Pomegranate wrecker."

That epithet made her sincerely burst into a high-pitched laugh, unrestrained. While laughing powerfully, her stomach aching, she said she wanted it as an official title.

They entered the courtroom a little late that morning, and it wasn't the only morning. The inhabitants of the court, in truth, didn’t seem to care about it. The God of Rigor perhaps was no longer so able to respect the dogmatic and imperative patterns that he had always followed, since Equity was his Queen, but it didn't matter. The kingdom, after all, had never been better managed: through longer discussions, through small silent battles between the two spouses, more moderate sentences were issued in both senses. And it was always clear which one between Rigor and Equity prevailed from time to time. Because perhaps there are perfect couples, which blend well until they become one, but Hades and Persephone were not like this: they would always remain as two hemispheres, perfectly fit but never mixed. A collaboration that creates gray scales not by mixing black and white, but making them collide with each other until one of them surrenders and gives a little respite. On the other hand, not even Spring and Winter are gradual: sometimes it happens that snow falls on the plants already flowering. Those are Hades and Persephone discussing a hearing.

And that would be it for all eternity, as the Wheel wanted.

There was one thing, however, that Persephone had loved most of all since she had become Queen of Erebus. It wasn't power, it wasn't luxury. To tell the truth, it wasn’t even her job and the hearings, which she was passionate about but which were more than ever a burden, with the Adamantine Crown on the head and the responsibility of the throne.

No. What she really loved being a sovereign, was to have Hade’s unlimited resources. Not for herself, but to do something concrete for others. This was something she he had always missed when she was only Kore.

She had accepted all the gifts that Hades had always insisted on offering her and then had made something good out of them. Something new. And the new thing she was most proud of, something that Hades alone couldn’t have conceived in a million years, was _Whipstaff_.

In those six years, Persephone had taken possession of the notorious Queen’s quarters, which she had never used as personal rooms (they should’ve kidnapped her for real to remove her from her husband's bed). Since she didn't like to waste space and resources, she had begun to change them.

At first she had made a large greenhouse, a reading area, a place of leisure. Then, the idea: given that her quarters were also near the Elysian Fields, she had decided to transform them in a meeting place for souls. In particular, the souls of the children who didn’t yet have anyone to visit in Dis, either because they had died before their parents, or because they were waiting for fathers and mothers sentenced to Tartarus.

In other words, children left alone. Children like Alexios.

She didn't like to call it an _orphanage_. A horrible word, bringing terrible _Oliver Twist_ vibes, and she certainly didn't want that. She just wanted a place to gather them and let them play together, especially the little ones.

So, in the evening, Persephone and Hades, always went there. After crossing the black and gold obsidian palace, suddenly the garden quarters opened up, and seemed to cross the threshold of time, coming in a mystical, messy and crowded place full of smells. The soft and pale light of the river Lethe penetrated from the high colored windows of the hall, rounded at the top and with frames made of black iron, in art nouveau style. Persephone had said that she had chosen that style on purpose, precisely in honor of Whipstaff.

" _Whipstaff?_ "Hades had asked, unaware, the first time he had admired her project.

" _Yes, Whipstaff. You know, Casper’s haunted villa?_ "

" _Casper?_ "

" _Yeah, it's the ghost of a child. And I thought that since I want to bring ghosts of children in here it was right and... ha, forget it. Tonight we’re watching the movie._ "

They had watched _Casper_ , and Hades hadn’t been very enthusiastic about the concept of death in that film, but that was another story. The important thing was that Persephone had her own Whipstaff, colorful, cheerful, green, immense, and she was ready to welcome everyone: Alexios and the other children waiting for someone.

Maybe she couldn’t give birth to children, but she certainly could love those souls as if they were her own.

In his time, slowly, even Hades was relaxing in that new role. Not that he ever showed too much enthusiasm, but he never pulled back when they had to go to Whipstaff either. Persephone could swear that every day his neutrality was turning more and more into a shy smile: he loved those children too.

That's why he didn't pull back even that night, when a bunch of kids ran to him screaming. That's why, serious and composed, he knelt down to be within their reach and listened to all the things they had to say, often redundant: not only because they were children, but also because they were dead, and they never had new thoughts to formulate. But the God, unperturbed, listened to them all the same and always pretended to be astonished, like someone who hears something for the first time.

"Uncle, uncle!" The louder of them called him.

It was Alexios. He was no longer so shy, since he had first experienced the look of the Inexorable, even though the God was now scrutinizing him reproachfully.

"Who told you to call me that?"

Alexios, making his way among the other children and dispersing them, raised his gray and ethereal shoulders.

"It was Kore!"

The child blamed her and pointed at her, while she was pampering a particularly young child, barely three years old. Hades looked at her even more reproachfully.

"What’s wrong, _uncle_?" Persephone shrugged, "Once you told me not to be ashamed to call you that. Well, I'm taking care that _no one_ is ashamed to do it."

Hades gave her a fiery look (strange, for someone so cold), but he didn't reply, only hinting with his expression that he would have made her pay for it. Probably in bed.

"Uuuuncle!" Alexios insisted, exasperated by the lack of consideration.

Hades, patient, returned his gaze to him, that round little face with the fringe too long on his forehead.

"What's up?"

"A new one. She doesn't want to come in, she's afraid of you."

"How strange." The God joked coldly, but he didn’t let himself be taken too much by adult irony and agreed to follow Alexios, who was pulling him by the chiton. Persephone joined them, because she wanted to get to know all the new arrivals personally.

Scampering among the others and finally doing the slalom between the terrariums of the greenhouse, Alexios slipped behind an hanging ivy pergola, hidden from prying eyes. And there, curled up next to an empty clay pot, a little girl.

She was older than Alexios, she looked about ten, eleven years old. She was sitting there, all closed in on herself, hugging her knees tightly against her chest. In that shy position, just one eye emerged from her hair, like a black ink ball.

Persephone ordered Alexios to go and play with the others, because the girl seemed scared and it was better not to stay there all together. For a moment, the Goddess looked at her and Hades next to each other, wondering if he should leave for a moment as well: usually children didn’t like him at first glance, he made them remember their judgement. And instead, Persephone found something unexpected: the girl wasn’t afraid of the Inexorable, as Alexios had believed. She seemed intrigued, indeed, as she was looking more curious at him than at Persephone.

The Goddess then took Hades by the hand and together they approached. They bent close to the new arrival.

"Hey? Hi, I'm Kore. And this is Hades."

"I know who you are." She answered sharp, dry, angry.

That was strange. She wasn’t scared. She was angry.

Persephone tried to calm her down.

"Well, I'm glad you wanted to come here to Whipstaff. We never saw you, where have you been so far?"

"I don’t know, whatever…" she replied, impertinent, "I’ve been just… around."

"How long?"

"I don’t know. Centuries."

Persephone understood that she was an ancient soul, much older than her, which had been in the Elysian Fields for a long, long time. She was dressed in an ancient, poor, creased Greek tunic. She must have died at least two thousand years ago, maybe more.

Persephone looked at Hades and wondered if he remembered her. And immediately she understood from his astonished seriousness that yes, he remembered that little girl very well. Now the Inexorable was looking at her with eyes wide open, dark and so similar to those of the same girl.

Persephone didn't intervene, let the two of them interact, because they seemed to have a strange, ancestral understanding. The child, angry, with that single eye that emerged from her dark hair, seemed to enclose all the chaos of the universe, in that single iris.

"I remember you" said Hades, finally, in a comment so low as to caress the ivy leaves like the shadows of the night, "I remember, you came here a long time ago. You didn't know your father and your mother is one of the few souls who was sentenced to Tartarus for eternity. Am I right?"

The girl, at that moment, raised her head. The silky locks followed her and gave her a chaotic, disheveled, completely insane look.

"What a memory, judge."

"I'm sorry." The God hastened to apologize: he always did it with children, even though he didn't really think it was his fault. The souls in his kingdom earned what they deserved, he was just the one who sorted them, but in front of the younger ones he kept a courtesy façade.

"No, you’re not sorry at all" the girl corrected him impudently, "but mom deserved it."

Both Hades and Persephone were astonished. The Goddess for once wasn't so sure how to behave. She was about to move, console the girl, telling her not to think about it and join the other children for the movie night that was about to begin, but something else happened unexpectedly: Hades approached first.

He didn't do much. He just put his hand on her shoulder. Still, calm, cold as he always was. But with Persephone that coldness looked out of tune, she was Spring after all; with the girl, instead... they were the same. _Identical._

"I know a thing or two about bad parents" the God of the dead said, "let's leave them where they are, they don't deserve our thoughts. Do you agree?"

Suddenly, the whole chaotic anger of the girl subsided. She relaxed her shoulders, emerged more from the grip of her knees, opened up like a night flower. The straight hair, dark and silky, the same as Hades, framed her pale face, where two black marbles were embedded under eyelids like little almonds. She seemed middle-eastern.

The girl looked at them both, skeptical at first, and then relaxing her shoulders.

"I like you" she said, not in a good mood, but quieter than before, "can I stay with you today? I've been bored for years."

Hades stood up, and he did something so out of his comfort zone: he spontaneously offered to shake her hand. The girl gladly accepted and all three of them walked together, emerging from the ivy lair.

Persephone, next to them, felt strange. She had had other orphans and she had loved them all, yes, but it had never happened to Hades to be so close to someone, so quickly. That little girl seemed to have appeared there, out of nowhere. Almost _on purpose._

As if the Wheel had wanted it.

As if Destiny had created a daughter suitable for them, in her physical features and character: biologically she was born in the mortal world, with mortal parents; but then she had died to become an immortal soul, as if from the very beginning she had been destined to become the adopted daughter of the sovereigns of the Underworld, Princess of Erebus, ruler of ghosts.

Persephone couldn’t know all this yet. Observing her future heir, she sighed, feeling inside an emotion that she couldn’t understand. She would comprehend it only with the passing of the years: it was true maternal instinct.

She also took the girl by the hand and, doing so, she felt all the dark chaos that she emanated. Not cruel. Just messy, crazy, a little macabre. As if the impulsive madness of a young Kore had become one with the serious coldness of an equally young Aidoneus.

"You'll see, you'll have fun here, you'll never be bored again" said Persephone, smiling at her warm and welcoming, "now, can you tell us what's your name?"

The girl waited a moment, another manner typical of Hades. Then, however, when she spoke, she exploded, a manner typical of Persephone.

"My name is _Melinoë._ "

The first one, who would be followed in the next future by Macaria and then Zagreus, according to the will of the Wheel. The first of three adopted Princes of the Underworld.

There is a paradox. _The paradox of Epicurus._

When she was young, the Goddess Persephone Kore Soteira used to think about it. About six years, six months and six pomegranates in the past. And only now she was understanding the meaning, as she was walking hand in hand with Melinoë and Hades.

She understood many things that once, when she was just a _kore_ , she had misunderstood.

At that moment only she felt certain about all her own Mysteries. She saw herself as paradoxical, as Epicurus had always described her, but not for the same reasons. At that moment, she was writing her own law, her own postulate.

 _The paradox of Persephone_ : Queen of both life and death; merciful, but at the same time vengeful; quiet wife, but never submissive; fertile woman, but never productive; mother of many souls, of three adopted Princes, giving birth to any; judge not generous to everyone, but generous as much as possible; and finally Goddess who cannot do _everything_ , but who must do _her best_.

Is this not the greater aspiration for anyone, Gods and mortals?

Everything else, after all, is always in the hands of the Wheel.

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, guys. Here we are. This is the end.  
> Before thanking you all, just the last note. You'll miss my neverending wall of text, won't you? xD  
> I wanted to explain my choice to have Hades and Persephone adopt their three "official" children. First of, even though I knew some of you where hoping Hades wasn't sterile, well... he really is. Totally. And Persephone hasn't her mother's power of creating life itself, so she can't get pregnant on her own (or make trees with fruits, by the way, flowers only). So I really liked the idea that chosing Erebus for her WAS a sacrifice, in some ways. It would've been too easy to find the perfect man with the big palace and all his diamonds, without any collateral effect. Also, that was precisely the reason why Demeter didn't want Erebus, and for me it's significative that Persephone can accept something even if it hurts. It really shows how much she loves him, in my opinion, even if he's so far from her Mysteries.  
> This said, there's another reason, more technical. There isn't much in classical mythology about Melinoe, Macaria and Zagreus. But they all have some kind of "problem". Like, Melinoe was probably not even a goddess, but a nymph for some reason (?); Zegreus died at some point coming again to life as Dyonisus (???); and finally Macaria, she was probably daughter of Hades only (?????); and for them all there are so many paternity doubts, since Zeus has slept with Persephone disguised as Hades, so they're probably HIS children and I didn't like that at all. So, long story short, I chose to make them adoptive children because it made much more sense. In this story, Melinoe, Macaria and Zegreus are souls who, for one reason or another, have no parent to wait for. 
> 
> And yes, now it really is the end. I seriously want to thank you all, for reading, for all your beautiful comments and for being so supportive, even if there are mistakes in this first english draft. This was so hard work (and it's not over yet), and I couldn't make it without your appreciation and interest. Also, now that we are at this turning point, it's time for some official announcements!  
> 1 - Yes, this book WILL be published! And the plan is to release it on Amazon (kindle and paperback versions) this late summer/early fall. I'll keep you updated through Ao3 and my socials (I use instagram the most, you can find me as @gc_scrittrice).  
> 2 - The story isn't over! The first additional thing I'll translate is a short story, and I'll probably add it here in a new chapter next week; stay tuned!  
> 3 - After that short story, there is a whole new novel (shorter than this one, but still). It's called "As the Moon and the Stars", it's a spin-off about Anubis and Cate, as some of you know already. It will be much more angst and dramatic, and also more adult content; the plot will be about the passing of time, it will fully uncover Anubis' prophecy, and as a secondary thematic it will explain Anubis' poliamorous lifestyle deeply, in what poliamory means and how it works. So, see you there, if you're interested! It will be published as another separated story on my Ao3 profile, again stay tuned!
> 
> And now it's time to leave. Thank you again, I love you all.  
> Yours, 
> 
> Giulia ♥


	39. SHORT STORY - Another thread of Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everybody! As promised, here is an additional short (actually very long) story to close this book. The whole idea came from a question: if I kept my versions of Hades and Persephone, but returned to a classic setting, would the two of them make the same choices? In fact, we're going to have the same characters, but in a different era, and we're going to see what a wedding between them would be like. Some things ended up being the same, and so many other things ended up being the opposite of the modern version, you'll see. But, in particular, with this story I wanted to analyze Hades' difficult position and experiment with his point of view.   
> I know that we love him and that everyone would like to think that no, respectful as he is, he wouldn't have kidnapped Persephone. But the reality is that the characters change a lot depending on the social context. So yes, he probably would have. This doesn't detract from the fact that even in classical mythology, although more justified by the mentality, it was an impulsive gesture that doesn't really suit Hades' personality, so he probably had to have motivations. I tried to explain those motivations, without justifying him.  
> For this reading, therefore, it's really necessary to make a small disclaimer. Changing era and taking the male point of view (which, as you will understand, isn't easy to manage), obviously leads to the consequence of having to adapt to historical realism. And so we have to ask ourselves: if Hades had kidnapped her, would he also have raped her? This question has very different answers because the concept of sexual assault is different. In ancient times, it was violence if committed outside of marriage, and this must be taken into account. Not because it was right: of course it was conjugal violence and of course it sucked. But in those days the context was different, both in the minds of men and women themselves.   
> Moreover, all this is in my opinion a source of great reasoning. In stories like these, as I mentioned before, it would be easier and safer to take the woman's point of view, to disapprove (rightly) of the misogyny of imposed marriage. Then, why Hades' point of view? Well, because I think it's an excellent example of how sexual discrimination often goes back to the senders and does so much damage to men themselves, subjected (even nowadays) to the stigma of being "real men" and therefore "not feeling". But even in ancient times people were, in fact, people, not mannequins. Just as there are today, there were differences in character, and there were also shy men forced to show themselves to be "real men". I think that Hades could have been a good example of this kind of personality, so I did an act of courage and gave voice also to male discrimination, brought through misogyny.
> 
> So, well, try to keep all that in mind while you read. And please, if you think that forced marriage may bother you as a theme, avoid this short story. For all the rest, don't worry, Hades is still our Hades, a gentleman. So I'm sure he'll make it up to you.

Silent.

It was strange to see Persephone silent. He _knew_ for sure she wasn't, by nature. He had seen her at the Symposia: she had always been one of the most turbulent children. As a little girl she had never had any sense of modesty, usually it was Demeter who held her close to her skirt, preventing her from running between the tables and the legs of the major Gods. Especially, the Goddess was always careful to keep her away from men, Zeus in particular. How to blame her? Male Gods had always been ruthless with women, they had never cared about young age either.

Although Hades had always known of her fate, sometimes that little girl had almost bothered him. Not her as a person, but she was too agitated when she was in a group with other kids, running here and there with Hebe and Nyx's mad children. Once, while playing, she had hit his calf, he remembered it because she could barely reach his knee. She, well-behaved but without any reverential fear, had looked up and said " _sorry uncle_ ", just to start to run again, without waiting for neither a praise, nor a reproach.

Then she had grown up, oh merciless Styx, so quickly. From sharp and untouchable she had become prosperous, wide hips, full breasts; and even more talkative, sociable. Hades had immediately loved and cursed that body blooming so fast, because if he had noticed, many others were also noticing. How long would it have taken her to be promised to another man, or worse, to be assaulted, as had happened to her mother? This had forced him to be impulsive, and jealous, and protective, feelings he had never experienced and which he wasn’t at all proud of. He felt like he was on the verge of death: for himself or for the other Gods who would dare to lay hands on the future Queen of Erebus. If love can't kill the gods, then what else?

The last time he had seen her, he had been on the shore of lake Pergusa. Not even then she was silent. She was laughing and played with her nymphs, in her eyes the same naivety as always, which by now was so out of tune with the rest of her body.

Hades was deeply disappointed, now, to see her so silent, frightened, with the face hidden behind the veil. The flowers in her head had withered. He knew it would happen from the moment he had grabbed the flesh of her arm to pushed her onto the quadriga. He knew that, for some time, he would be the enemy in her eyes, just as he was ready to wait because he knew she would forgive him. But he hadn't thought her hatred would be so difficult to bear.

He looked at her sideways, without moving his head, rigid. She was at his side, but it was like she was elsewhere with her mind, her gaze lost. She hadn’t eaten or drunk anything, and Hades knew it because, thus, he hadn’t been allowed to eat or drink either.

He tried to act impassive for the other guests, all of them by now full of wine, too drunk to notice the gloomy mood of the newlyweds. Or maybe, they didn’t care. After all, it was normal for a bride to be unhappy, and it was normal for Hades not to show the slightest enthusiasm, so no one expected anything different from them.

He turned his head three quarters, without looking directly at her, fearing that he would do more harm than he had already done.

"My Queen, eat something."

She didn't answer. She didn't even seem to have heard.

Hades reached out and put some meat in her plate, wine in the cup, hoping that she would appreciate, at least, the gallantry. But she did nothing.

"Persephone, I know you eat regularly and you're hungry. Sooner or later you’ll have to start, it doesn’t make sense to perpetrate your pain."

Nothing. Silence. Immobility.

Hades went back at looking straight, giving up.

He hoped that night would end quickly.

How could the other men do it? How could they do their duty on their wedding night, feeling despised? Even mortals were capable of it. So why was it so difficult for him?

Perhaps, he said to himself, it was like that for everyone. Maybe the first night isn't supposed to be pleasant for either of them. On the other hand, marriage mustn’t be a whim, but a duty; and a wife isn’t a concubine, but a mother of heirs. To believe that with Persephone it could’ve been different was perhaps naivety as well: the difference was that she could still afford it; Hades couldn’t.

He had made a choice, asking her in marriage and then taking her away. Therefore, he was compelled now to do what needed to be done, in order to respect her as well. It was normal that a bride was afraid, but to put her in front of the doubt, not to appear resolute, would’ve been even worse for her. It would’ve been rude to leave her the responsibility to choose to validate the marriage, a choice that they didn’t have. A good husband helps his wife by imposing himself, everyone said that.

Hades was trying to repeat all of this in his mind as he took Persephone with him to the bridal chamber. And he was failing. Because she kept staring around as if looking for an escape route; she didn't even walk spontaneously, forcing him to hold his hand between her shoulders and push her. And the closer they got to the destination, the more her body trembled. Hades had never seen anyone trembling so violently, not even the most frightened of souls. He felt guilty, because he knew that that situation for him was just internal discomfort, for her instead it was terror, mental and physical.

He would’ve liked to comfort her. He would’ve liked to tell her something as they walked, and he knew that his silence only made him appear more ruthless, even if it wasn't his intention.

But wasn't he ruthless, after all?

Sometimes a man has to be, they say. 

_She will forgive me_ , he thought, he hoped, as he accompanied her over the purple drapes of the room. _One day she will know that I did it for Erebus and for us. She will realize that I took her here hastily because she already had a thousand greedy wolves around her and because she would never have come spontaneously... even if Erebus has always been her home, since before she was born, as destined by the Wheel._

The wheel. Damn Wheel.

It could’ve found a way to bring Spring down there in a brighter mood. It could’ve avoided making Erebus so frightening, so that it was possible for a woman to come down happily. And instead Hades had had to grab her and drag her into the bowels of the earth, like a jailer in a dungeons.

When they were inside, cautiously, he let slip the hand with which he was pushing her back. He feared that she could escape, making everything much more difficult, but Persephone did nothing. She remained motionless, standing, looking around like a prey. She moved just when someone made her move, she stayed where she was left, as if she had no will of her own.

Hades didn’t know what to do. He wanted to go away, leave her alone, but he couldn't. He would’ve liked at least to end it quickly, to do a favor to them both, but a man who does his duty quickly isn’t a man. He would only end up getting her derision, as well as her hatred.

The God swallowed. He didn’t know if he should say something, or simply start, or what else. Embarrassed, he could no longer look at her and turned away, with the excuse of washing his hands at the tripod. He also refreshed his face and neck, nervous.

"Sit down."

It came out as an order, even if it wasn't the original intention. He wanted to retract, say something else, but it had always been difficult for him to let go of the words. Even just one was a pain, every time. On that occasion more than ever.

Then, finally, her voice.

"Please, let me go..."

It didn’t matter that she had spoken only to express such a miserable sentence, with the faint tone of someone who has no breath left. Hearing her talk lightened Hades’ soul anyway, even if only a little. At least now he knew he hadn't taken the gift of speech away from her forever.

Hades stared at himself in the water of the basin, and realized that his eyes were harder than usual. He didn't dare turn around and look at her directly, he stayed there. What was the purpose, though? Was he really hoping that his power would extinguish? It had never happened, it wouldn’t have happened that evening.

"Please... please, I beg you, don't hurt me."

It had taken him too long to answer, as usual, and therefore Persephone was trying again. This time it was more painful to hear her pray.

"Don't beg me. You’re a Goddess, Deities don’t plead."

Why? Why must he always be so hard? He didn't want to be, and yet those sentences came out like that. He just wanted to reassure her, tell her that hurting her was the last thing he wanted; in fact, if he had forced himself to marry her, it was to prevent the other Gods from doing it. But all he could do was just act like they had always told him to do: always be firm with your wife, always. Otherwise she will never have any reason to trust you. Why should she love you if she can't trust your confidence?

Hades closed his eyes, squeezed them, tried to drive away any expression of weakness as long as Persephone couldn’t see his face.

"My Lord, please... I'm not ready, I'm really not."

"Zeus assured me you are."

"Yes, well... what does Zeus know about women?"

For a moment, Hades smiled. There weren’t many Gods so bold to say such a thing, and he was glad that one of them was his wife. Her impulsiveness was one of the elements of her chaotic essence that he _knew_ he loved, although he hadn’t yet been able to fully enjoy it.

 _Zeus knows nothing about women, my child_ , he would have wanted to say, _but he is to decide, and he was the one allowing me to take you. He even told me that if you had a menstrual cycle like the others you would have already started being fertile long since. He noticed you too. If you weren't in my bed, in a few weeks at most you would’ve been in his._

He didn’t have much esteem for what he was going to do, but he knew for sure that he was a better expectation if nothing else than his brother, or any other more impulsive God, even from a woman's point of view. Not that he was feeling any better at that thought. It was just a fact.

Her previous bold statement had eased him a little more, so he finally managed to respond in a more articulate and accommodating way. His tone was still cold and tense, but it was something.

“You shouldn't underestimate yourself, anyway. You’re an adult. I know that Demeter has always tried to make you believe otherwise, but you’ll find out that you’re more ready than you think."

"I would like to find out in different circumstances, then, my Lord."

Hades smiled again, but immediately turned off his already faint hilarity: he wanted to turn around and look at her, but he couldn’t be too emotional. When he did, he found Persephone all tight in her wedding peplum, sitting on the bed, her vegetation-colored eyes so wide.

"Call me by name."

"The hierarchy... the hierarchy doesn’t allow it..."

"You just climbed all the way up the hierarchy."

That idea somehow had to make her even more agitated than the imminent first night, because suddenly she collapsed on the sheets. why? Why wasn't she happy, at least, to have become a Queen? Hades had hoped that that would compensate her for the trouble. And instead she seemed annihilated.

"Please, please, I'm not ready, I'm not..."

Her pleading made him uncomfortable, forcing him to turn again and take refuge in his own reflection, in the water of the tripod. He thought that talking would only lengthen the agony for them both. He forced himself to keep the reins of that determination he everyone, Persephone too, expected from him. And, regressing to the coldness of just before, he began to unfasten the fibula of the chlamys.

"Take off your clothes."

Her terror was immediately renewed, more intense.

"No! No, please!"

“Take off your clothes, I said. Do it yourself and it will be less pitiful."

_It will be less pitiful and painful for both of us. Please, please don't force me to do it. Help me, even just tonight, and then you can hate me for ever and ever._

"No! No, I beg you, I want to go home!"

The Goddess’ tone had become degrading: there was no need to see her to understand that, at that moment, she had nothing of a Goddess. Hades hated to hear her like this. He hated being him to make her feel that way.

He unfastened the chlamys, unable to look at her, well aware that she wasn’t obeying. That was, therefore, the demonstration of rigor he must give? He had believed that learning to sit on the austere throne of Erebus was the biggest challenge of his life. He was wrong.

He pursed his lips, knew he had to do it.

He turned, put down the chlamys, with just his tunic on. He saw Persephone in pain, curled up on the corner of the bed, no dignity. Why? Why did she have to consider being his bride such a misfortune? It would have been the same, in many cases worse, with any other man. And at least formally Hades _was_ a good party, what did she hope to get better? Hadn't they taught her that accepting destiny is among a woman's good virtues? Why should he always be the only God in the whole Pantheon to try to keep everyone's values firm?

Her behavior annoyed him, and he was almost happy of it, because at least he managed to find the confidence he lacked just before. Without anger but nevertheless with absolute determination, he approached, until he was in her presence.

"Get up. I will do it."

Persephone didn’t reply in words: she shook her head, almost touching her forehead on the sheets, tightening herself in the veil. She hadn’t even managed to take that off. She was so ashamed that she couldn’t even reveal her hair?

Hades remained impassive on the outside, relentless, aware that she would never cooperate. They called him the Inexorable: he had to be with her too. Then he took her by the arm, trying to be delicate but firm: he lifted her by the elbow, made her stand up. She, in return, couldn’t even lift her head.

Silently, without adding useless words, he began to undress her. He removed her veil first, while she remained motionless. She was so embarrassed to have even just her brown curls free, that Hades could _see it_ all around her.

He ignored it. She would have to get used to it sooner or later.

He unfastened the fibulae of the peplum on both shoulders, widening her neckline. Then he continued with the laces that kept the dress in shape all over her belly: he had to lower himself on one knee to do it, given the difference in stature.

The tunic was now a shapeless cloth, and in fact soon it fell apart on the ground, leaving her naked, except for the gold-leather shoes and jewelry.

Hades now was in front of her, he was at the level of her breast. Suddenly, he felt the warmth of spring emanate from her body. Her tan was evidence of her long days in the sun; it made Hades feel nostalgic for the surface, that had once been his home too. Her body was plump and soft, her prosperous breasts were trembling to the rhythm of her terror. It was... deeply unfair. To feel such a desire for a body that despised him... if only she could feel it too. If only she could understand that they were destined...

Hades reached out a hand, slow, tempted, touching her breast. He approached his face and exhaled in excitement. But his breath was cold, it always had been, and her nipple swelled, annoyed.

Persephone closed in on herself. She had been motionless until then, and now, recovering in her spirit of rebellion, she had lowered her arms to cover her body, blocking his sight and access.

Hades didn’t waver, he immediately forced her to remove the forearm from her chest.

"No," he spoke immovably, "a wife shouldn't be ashamed to show herself to her husband."

And only then, at that moment, he heard her cry. She hadn't done it until then, ever, not even when he had taken her away from lake Pergusa. Now, however, she was sobbing loudly, and Hades was forced to raise his head to face her.

It was a torture. She was looking down like a dog. Her eyes were so swollen that she seemed to have been crying for weeks, and not for a few seconds. The streams of tears were so copious, furrowing her freckles, that they could have quenched the Styx.

It was there that Hades realized he couldn't do it.

He had already done too many things out of his normality. Now, really, he was unable to continue.

Only then, for the first time, did Hades feel _empathy._ It wasn’t easy for him: a defense mechanism, which allowed him not to give in to the tears of the souls in the Court. And she knew that that empathy was emanating from her: this, perhaps, was _her_ defense mechanism.

He realized that Persephone couldn’t be the hypothetical wife of whom the traditions spoke, nor he could be the hypothetical, resolute husband. Spring wasn’t there to be an angel of the hearth or a mother: so why would he have to treat her as if she were someone else's wife?

Hades remained motionless looking at her, and never touched her body again. He merely stretched his fingers towards her face and wiped away a tear, while at the same time he peered a little under her to meet her downcast gaze.

“Change is scary, my child. For you, as it is for me."

He contravened the rules he had promised himself to follow saying that. And only then, feeling an emotional opening, Persephone finally grant him something: she raised her forest-colored irises a little and blinked a few times, her eyelashes soaked with drops like blades of grass with dew.

For a moment, hope was clear on her face.

"So don’t do it, just let me go. Why do you have to force us?"

What did she think, that Hades could choose? He was as trapped as she was. With the sword of Damocles on his head, reminding him to consume the marriage, otherwise invalid, and the constant fear that someone else would claim her before it was official, that Zeus would take her as his own concubine, now that he had noticed her existence. And with all the status to be preserved, even in for the Underworld and its inhabitants: it was just _inadmissible_ that the bride of the Inexorable came out of that room still intact.

Hades swallowed, looking for those words with which he had never got along. Suitable words, which wouldn’t give her vain hopes, but which wouldn’t even make him look like a monster. Like Cronus. He didn't want to be like his father.

"Tonight we will lie as husband and wife, Persephone, this is not discussed" the young woman immediately began to cry again, and Hades hurried to add the rest, "but we have all night. Haste is a terrible enemy, which generates and magnifies unmotivated fears, and now we are both its victims. We can stop and... _talk_ a little. Fine?"

The young woman wiped her tears, with a partial, renewed confidence. She swallowed violently and nodded with small, fast movements of the head. Looked all around, analyzing the room, scene of darkness and sinister echoes.

Maybe she didn't like the environment. Hades regretted not having chosen the Queen's quarters, perhaps she would’ve felt more comfortable. He had made them embellished with refined furniture, colored curtains, a more comfortable and sumptuous bed and, above all, a wardrobe of precious peplums and feminine accessories. In his bedroom he had nothing that could make her feel at home.

Hades rose, took a step away, to let her breathe. Immediately, Persephone hid her nudity again, covering the nipples and the intimate area as best she could. She glanced at the wedding peplum on the ground. She seemed to want to put it on, but it was complicated to fasten without the help of a maid, a sumptuous dress and not at all comfortable to wear, which moreover she had certainly hated in its meaning.

Hades said nothing: he took his chlamys, recently removed, and let it fall heavily in a drapery of a thousand floating volutes on her graceful shoulders. She was so minute in comparison, that only that fabric, a minority of the groom's dark chiton, dressed her completely like a night blanket.

Persephone, suddenly greedy for the fabric like a thirsty man in the desert is for water, hurried to retrieve the edges and close them on the front. She looked like a closed narcissus, she certainly was equally delicate.

"Do you want the servants to bring you a more feminine tunic?"

Persephone seemed to think, the tears finally drying on her cheeks full and sprinkled with freckles. For a second, she seemed to smell the chlamys on her shoulder, finding it... not so horrible. Eventually, she lifted her head from the folds and wrinkled her nose in a way that Hades found lovely.

"No, this is fine."

Hades clenched his teeth. He looked for something to say. He wasn’t good at that, but he also knew that that evening he couldn’t count on Spring's loquacity.

He desperately looked for something in the room that would give him a hint, and he set his eyes on the low table at the foot of the bed, with silver cups, decorated with inlays depicting the centauromachy.

"Do you like mint tea?"

The young woman seemed to shrink on herself. If she had been able to raise the chlamys on her head and hide that as well, pretending not to be there, he would certainly have done it.

"Yes, I do my Lord."

“Would you like some? I haven't seen you drink since you arrived."

Persephone hesitated. Then, finally, a feeble nod.

Hades didn’t have it repeated. For once in his life, he was also happy to perform a humble service, because up to that moment his bride hadn’t granted him _anything._ She hadn't eaten, she hadn't drunk, she hadn't opened her mouth or anything. It was the first hope that Hades had seen in many days.

He invited her to sit on the low stool, padded and covered with brocade. He served her a fruit bowl full of open pomegranates, hoping that she wanted to eat at least a few grains, and a cup of hot tea. Persephone, for the first time, indulged in a gesture that was so hers: she waved her finger in the infusion, as if she were mixing it, and after two circles in her cup fresh peppermint leaves had appeared. 

Immediately, the Goddess stopped, stiffening on the stool with the back straighter than a column. Her eyes were wide, as if that gesture had come out spontaneously, unwanted. It was clear that it wasn’t her intention to be accommodating, not even in drinking tea.

Hades noticed it and tried to seize the opportunity.

“Your power is enchanting, my Queen. Never hold it back."

Persephone looked skeptical at him, curls framing her figure like the tangle of branches of a wild and chaotic tree.

But then, she surprised him again: after tightening her lips a little, she stretched out on the table with a bare, clear arm. She reached Hades’ cup: she covered it with her palm and, as soon as she pulled it away, his tea was also garnished with fresh mint.

Hades exhaled. He was so happy at that moment that he could get on his knees, _and pray to her, and worship her,_ thanking her and asking her to never stop giving him a second chance. He didn't do it because he was incapable of it, but he would’ve liked.

However, he tried to express how grateful he was for such a small gesture of intimacy, trying to smile. It wasn’t something he could easily, people usually found him terrifying anyway. But he hoped that Persephone appreciated his effort, with her empathy she could feel it was authentic.

"Thank you, my Queen."

"Thank... thank you, my Lord." Hades wondered what she was thanking him for, and she hinted at the chlamys with which he had covered her.

Hades dared more: he pointed to the fruit bowl with his eyes.

"Eat something, I’m asking you from my heart."

Persephone reached out reluctantly and took some pomegranate grains in her hand, placing them on a silver plate. She took them to her mouth one at a time.

"It’s good" she spoke, her voice almost inaudible, like the whistle of an early bird, "thank you, I was so hungry."

"I can make the servants bring something more nourishing, let me just..."

But Persephone immediately took on a disgusted expression, pulling her lips together. Hades noticed it and didn't dare to speak anymore.

The young woman hesitated. Then, her downcast eyes on the steaming surface of her tea, she confessed:

"I wanted to eat even before, but... here you only have meat."

She seemed to be ashamed of it. Perhaps she would’ve preferred to look resolute, with no appetite for a rebellious choice. But Hades, for his part, couldn’t be happier, because it meant that he hadn’t completely torn her will to live. He was mortified that he hadn't been a good host, though.

"Don't you eat meat, my Queen?"

"No. It’s disgusting and cruel. I’m sorry, I know you wanted to be welcoming to me after all.”

Hades smiled again, this time it was easier. He stared at her, in love, as he always had been.

“You could’ve told me, my child, I would’ve made you a more fitting wedding banquet. Forgive me. In Erebus we are used to meat, it comes from sacrifices and we don't want to waste it. I will import all your favorite foods for you. And please, feel free to use your power to produce them on your own, if you want to. It’s wonderful to see you do it."

He mentioned the tea leaves in the cup. Persephone shrugged.

“I'm not that good. My mother knows how to make fruits, but I can make just flowers and plants" she degraded herself, then inhaled the fumes of tea and relaxed a little," not that there is much to do, anyway. There’s no fertile soil down here."

Suddenly, Hades had an idea. He glanced towards the back of the room, where heavy purple drapes hid the terrace. He had to close the curtains on purpose, because he wasn’t sure what Persephone could think of the Elysian Fields. He still feared that she would react like Demeter had done long ago. But at the moment, seeing her so frightened and out of place in that dark, square environment, it occurred to him that she couldn’t consider the Elysium worse than the rest of Erebus.

Hades, in turn, drank from the cup and let the mint aroma refresh his throat, which opened his nostrils and gave him the courage he needed.

“My Queen, I have something to show you. My wedding gift."

She must think of some jewelry, because she immediately tried to refuse.

“I don't want anything, my Lord. Even though I know you have that power, I'm not a vain woman."

“Trust me, you'll like it” he wasn't so sure, but he wanted to hope so, “it's a place in Erebus that you haven't seen yet and that could make you feel at home. Can you do me a favor in return?" she had round eyes, interested, curious, “Call me by my name. Hades, or Aidoneus, you choose. It's the only thing I ask you."

She raised her eyebrows, sarcastic. Finally. Fear was slowly slipping from her body.

"It's not the only thing you ask me, Hades."

She had replied dry, imperious.

But anyway, she had called him by his name.

A relief.

Hades couldn’t have described it otherwise.

When Persephone saw the Elysian Fields, she was breathless. She put her hands to her mouth, exactly as her mother had done millennia before, yet with a completely different attitude. Now, finally, something was shining in her irises, something that wasn’t horror, terror, aberration.

She said nothing, and on the other hand, Hades didn’t need her to. In the exact moment when he had opened the curtains to show her the view, he had _seen_ her emotion, and now more than ever he _knew_ that the Queen was finally home.

He led her downhill along the extremely long stone staircase, which went down the vertical slope. All along the descent, Persephone wasn’t looking where she put her feet, she was constantly risking to fall: she was lost to admire the infinite fields of green, and the placid unrolling of the Lethe. Hades had to keep his hand on her shoulder, as when he had led her into the bedroom. But, this time, only to prevent her from falling, and not to push her: Persephone never had tobe pushed to appreciate the Elysium, her natural extension, her home chosen by Fate.

As soon as they were on the ground, Persephone hastily removed her sandals and abandoned them on the last step of rock, as if it were her habit. In fact, Hades had never seen her wear shoes, not even on Olympus.

She put her foot on the fresh and dewy grass of that cave and suddenly she looked reborn: all the flowers on her head flourished in healthy and clear corollas, and around her, on the ground, appeared many little daisies.

Then, immediately, as she had done after creating the tea leaves, she stopped: Hades understood it because, before surrounding him, the daisies had stopped growing and had become slower, undecided.

Persephone appeared skeptical, evidently wondering if she could do it, or punishing herself for acting too spontaneous and at ease.

Hades touched her hair and the fresh flowers among the walnut-colored curls.

“Like I said, don't hold it back, it's my gift. You can do whatever you want here. The souls will be grateful."

And there, something that Hades would never have hoped to get in weeks, maybe months, maybe years, the most beautiful wedding gift she could give him: she curved her shy lips, blushed a little.

“A smile, finally." He touched her cheek and felt hot, like touching a heavenly body.

Persephone seemed undecided for a moment whether to repress that smile or feed it. Eventually, she spread it, her eyelids half-closed in pleasure. Daisies started growing again.

"Thank you. It's a nice gift, my Lor... Hades."

Hades bowed respectfully. Only then did he realize that he was no longer in a hurry as before. It was the first time in days that he too felt comfortable and he had never hoped it could happen so soon. At the moment, he only wanted to erase everything: marriage, the throne, the sense of duty... erase everything, and be alone, just with his true character and her, in the Elysian Fields.

"Come with me," he smiled, "there’s a place I want you to see."

There was a spot, next to the vertical waterfall of the Lethe, hidden in the damp and sharp rocks: dark and barely visible, only thanks to some more accentuated shadows, which suggested a hidden depth. It was a narrow inlet, which Hades had discovered millennia ago and which he had preferred not to touch, so that it remained well hidden from the souls of the Elysium. 

After the first bristling barrier of rock, so close to the waterfall to refresh the faces of passers-by with splashing water, there was a tunnel of untouched, rough stone, except for the floor, scraped to prevent tripping. It was a short passage, but dark enough to get people confused: Persephone stopped, in fact, and Hades had to take her hand to guide her.

After that, there was a small cave. It was nothing more than a mere hole, it could have accommodated four people at the most, and Hades couldn’t even stand upright comfortably. But the atmosphere was magical and Persephone, judging by her wide-eyed eyes, was affected by it as much as the rest of the Elysium.

It was a cave littered with diamonds on the uneven walls, on the sharp ceiling, on the two small limestone stalagmites. In the center, a pool of water, on which a soft layer of steam fluctuated. But something else was more spectacular: the opening on the right side, irregularly circular, from which it was possible to see the back of the waterfall, heavy and pitiless, going backwards. It was quieter than an earthly waterfall, but it sprayed with the same power, and water droplets were going to dive into a thousand waving circles on the edge of the pool.

Since the Lethe was a warm and sparkling river, it radiated a precious light in all the cramped environment, and it reflected on the diamonds, creating strange shadows. Looking at the sparkle of the moving water, at the diamonds hit by the light in ever- changing directions, at the irregularities of the rock, it seemed that nothing was still, everything in endless and chaotic movement; as if somehow the cave was alive, breathing, and water was its lymph.

Persephone was bewildered, the bluish reflections dancing on her face with her freckles.

"Do you like it, my Queen?"

Persephone indulged in a second smile, and Hades' heart felt even lighter than the first time.

"It's... it's wonderful!"

Finally. Finally he saw her really enthusiastic about something, as he had always seen her on the surface. Then Hades took courage and put his hands on her shoulders, covered by the chlamys.

“The waters of the Lethe are thermal and beneficial, even for us immortals. I know you love to swim" he had found her just about to enter the water, that day on the Pergusa, "would you like to relax with me?"

She turned and looked at him, again small, undecided.

"It’s not... a thermal bath with a man is not appropriate for..." she was about to say that it wasn’t appropriate for unmarried girls, before realizing that she wasn’t anymore.

Hades tried to help her to the best of his ability.

“My Queen, trust your husband. I won't attack you, don’t be afraid. We just sit and talk until you are relaxed. It might be a good idea for us both to get acquainted, don’t you think?"

She looked at him in the eyes, without fear, and she was one of the few able to do it. She was still frightened to accept the Inexorable, yet she didn’t fear his power.

She nodded slowly. She didn’t consent in words, perhaps fearing to sign her sentence of death, but she didn’t protest anymore. She stretched out a foot on the edge of the pool, crouched down, and felt the intensity of the heat with her fingers, stroking the surface of the water. Finally, she decided to get in.

Hades noticed her pleading gaze, and understood that she would’ve liked not to be observed removing the chlamys. He helped her again: he turned away and let her get the water first. He turned again only when he felt that the movements of the water had subsided. He approached the edge in turn and decided to wait a little, to let her get used.

"Is it to your liking, my Queen?"

Persephone nodded, immersed up to her chin, the ends of the curly locks floating around her. Her still tanned body wasn’t hidden at all by the lustral water, but Hades made sure not to look at her too much. There would be time for that, he didn't want to ruin everything for a stupid spark of lust: he wasn't Eros, he wasn't Dionysus, he wasn't even Zeus. He had always boasted of that, it was worth giving proof of it; even on the wedding night, even in front of his wife, even if it was his right to desire her.

There was a long moment of stillness and silence, then Persephone seemed to regain some courage. She began to speak much more honest and unfiltered.

"I like it here," she confessed, caressing with her eyes the precious stones over her head like a quilt of stars, "I didn't think there could be so much beauty in the world."

Hades appreciated that she had extended her consideration to the whole world and hadn’t said what she evidently meant: she didn’t believe there could be beauty _in the Underworld._

“I am happy that you feel more comfortable here. I know the court can be scary."

“Not really scary, it's just so dark and cold. The fire doesn’t heat at all and there are no gardens..." she stopped, as if suddenly she had decided not to complain so much. But Hades wasn’t offended, he knew the weaknesses of both his person and his Kingdom.

“From tomorrow you’ll have the Queen's quarters, you can decorate them as you like. Nobody will ever bother you there if you don't want to."

"Thanks. You’re giving me many attentions."

"Are they working, then?"

Persephone nodded even before she realized it, and in fact she seemed to regret it immediately, clasping her arms to her belly under the sparkling water.

“I'm happy about that too, my Queen. I’ve been waiting for something from you for days."

Persephone wrinkled her nose, suddenly proud, annoyed. She turned, looked at the waterfall: the flowers in her hair grew dark. Black in the petals, but not in the stem: they weren’t withering, more alive and threatening than ever.

"Well, I've been waiting for you for days too," she replied, in return, "I'm glad you finally wanted to stop and talk to me. If you had done it before, it would’ve been completely different."

At that moment Hades had the confirmation that she had really relaxed enough, or perhaps she was too tired to bear any longer, because the hot topic was emerging. The God had hoped he could deal with it after that night, though.

"I asked your hand to the Father of the Pantheon, Persephone" he clarified, pragmatic, "I did what needed to be done."

"And you never thought about asking me what I wanted?"

Hades spread a sarcastic, cynical smile. To her it must have seemed cruel, because, without abandoning a grain of her own intentions, she curled up on herself, shy.

“I should have asked you what, exactly? _Hey, little girl, embodied life, protector of nature, do you want to descend into my sterile Kingdom of darkness?_ "

He meant that asking wouldn’t help. It had never helped, starting from Demeter and following with all his concubines. Not even being the God of wealth was enough to make a woman believe it was worth it. And if it was difficult for him, he dared not imagine for mortals: at times, Hades thought that not asking for the opinion of a bride was necessary, because most of them would always have had reason to refuse.

Persephone seemed furious, in her fearful way of showing it. The dark flowers had filled with prickly thorns, and Hades began to think they should hurt her.

"You... you've been brutal."

Hades leaned against the rock wall. He stared at her, now serious. He shook his head, the long locks fell in front of him. He was still the Inexorable: he wouldn’t have allowed such a spoiled judgment, not even to his Queen.

“I was hasty, Persephone. But not brutal. Be fair to me: I treated you as the Queen you are, I never did you any harm, nor I’ll do in the future. Tell me honestly, what did you expect from your life? Do you think it would’ve been different with another man?"

She lowered her head and didn’t answer. Her eyes filled with rancor. Hades was sorry, but it was her who wanted to talk about it: well, it was time to make things clear.

He straightened up, went around the pool, closer to her. When he was near her, he noticed that she was trying to move, creating light waves in the water, full of apprehension. She was afraid of being grabbed, but Hades did nothing: he just crouched down.

"Look at me, wife." She could not escape such a peremptory order, and she therefore looked him in the eyes. As soon as contact was established, no physical coercion was needed, because the imposition of knowledge is the strongest hold on a person's soul.

With his power, he showed it to her. He transmitted her images and knowledge, according to the story of his next words. He showed her what he had always seen in his mind.

“Has your mother ever told you _really_ brutal stories? Did she tell you that she was raped in the middle of a wheat field by our brother?"

"Please... please stop..."

She was only imploring because she knew that Hades was right. She didn't want to see the truth. And then the God didn't stop: he continued to stare at her in the green irises and make her understand what the other thread of fate would have been like.

“One of your favorite suitors was the Thracian, Ares, did you know that? I don’t think anyone told you, but you could understand it by yourself: he was always behind you, sniffing your virginal tunic like a lion, naive of you to not see it."

"Enough... don't speak to me like that..."

But it was Fate speaking to her like that, not him. And Fate wouldn’t stop just because she begged.

"You know what would have happened if you got married to Ares? He would’ve possessed you in front of all his barbarian court, on the wedding banquet, next to the roasted lamb. It wasn't going to be quick, he would’ve done it again and again, regardless of your tears or your screams, maybe even proud of them. And afterwards he would’ve forced you to drink the blood of an enemy, he would’ve made you taste their flesh. Tell me, would you have preferred this to your present condition? Because such is the definition I have of _brutal._ "

Her eyes had turned red from the stress, and her eyelids trembled. She couldn’t close them, no matter how hard she tried. Then Hades thought it was enough, and so he closed his own, savoring the color of darkness. Out of that darkness, there was Persephone panting, tired, struggling to recover.

"This is what I _know_ , my Queen, and I’ve always known it," he continued, more kindly, without reopening his eyes, "since I first saw you at the spring banquet, three lustra ago, I knew you would been Queen of Erebus, and great was my joy. But I also saw something else, I saw _that._ The thought of what they could have done to you has kept me company every night, for all these years. Until you flourished, and that vision has become more and more tangible, and I wasn’t able to bear it anymore."

He reached out, seeing nothing. He immediately found one of her curls and touched it, only with two fingers, delicate. He wanted to caress her, hold her, keep her forever, but he knew she wouldn't have liked it.

He swallowed and finished what he had to say.

“You have every right to hate me, my child, I won't ask you otherwise. I just wish you understood that my only desire is and will always be to do what’s best for you and this Kingdom. There’s nothing else."

When he lifted his eyelids, Hades found Persephone with swollen eyes, heavy tears accumulating on the corners and only one, the first, more daring, slipping and brushing her cheek.

She was as still as before, as he had left her. For a long moment, Hades thought she wasn't ready to speak yet. Instead she surprised him: she showed that strength she had inside, hidden but terrible.

"I'm not that naive. I know it would’ve been horrible, even with everyone else. But the faults of the most chaotic Gods aren’t enough to redeem you by comparison, _husband._ "

And that, instead, was an aspect of her that he would always love. Now she speaking like the Queen of Erebus, she was now truly _fair_.

She started talking again, merciless, crying and yet at the same time maintaining a dignity that Hades had never seen, not even in the deceased heroes who, those sung by the _aoidos_.

"You could have," she said sincerely, "if you had stopped even for a moment, you would’ve seen that I wasn't scared when you approached, on the Pergusa. I had never been scared of you... until that day."

Hades frowned. He tried to understand what she meant to say, but for the first time he saw nothing in her that could suggest the truth.

Then she started again, still, yet more and more desperate, as if what she didn’t want to confess what she was about to say, not even to herself.

"I’ve always... admired you, my Lord. Always. I would’ve expected everyone to grasp me like that, everyone except of you. I was scared, and I screamed, not because you’re the Lord of Darkness, but because... I felt so _stupid_. In love with a God who I believed was righteous, and who instead was treating me like that... like everyone said you would do."

Hades remained motionless. Now, he was the one scared, hearing the truth.

He swallowed nervously.

"In... in love?"

But she shook her head, tried to wipe her tears. But many others fell in the water, becoming one with the Lethe.

“You’re right to speak ill of that barbarian of Ares, my King. But tell me, how do you think the others speak of you? And everyone mocked me, like a stupid naïve girl, because I’ve always defended you. I wanted... I really wanted to see you again, even if I thought you had no interest in me. I had prepared you a field of asphodels." Hades felt stabbed, straight in the lungs, it felt worse than Cronus’ claw, "The truth is that if you asked me, I would have come, Hades. But you didn't even let me speak. You hurt me. And then I was afraid. I thought maybe the others were right. I thought... I thought you wanted to take me right there..."

She began to sob loudly, nothing to do with what she had done until then. Hades didn’t know what to do. He looked around, he knew that everything was his fault. Everything.

"My child, I… I never… I wouldn’t have…"

"Oh, wouldn't you have?" she exploded, in one breath, finally letting out all the negative things she had repressed in those days, “You wouldn't have raped me, did you mean that? Well, you knew it, but I didn't. And you didn't say anything, not even where you were taking me, or what you wanted to do with me. I thought I was doomed, dishonored forever, I was terrified and you... you _didn't say anything_."

He hadn't said anything, no.

He hadn't reassured her, he hadn't revealed what was going on, because he wanted to prevent her from rebelling and jumping off the quadriga. And then he had preferred to leave her alone until the wedding, thinking he owed her at least some peace.

But his silence was again a cause of tribulation. He hated it. He would’ve liked to be different, better at expressing himself. But even now that she was letting it all out, in that flow of empathy impossible for him to conceive, his first reaction was to be silent. As he always had been.

Life and Death really spoke two very different languages.

A long time passed and Persephone's crying became less angry, but it wasn’t a good sign. She was disappointed by his silence, once again.

Hades forced himself to do it for her. But it was a great act of courage, it was painful.

"I... I’m mortified, my Queen. I’m a serious and silent man, I know. But it’s..." he looked for the right words, which never collaborated when it was time to talk about feelings, "but it’s just my nature. I don't speak because I find the language of humans so misleading, or maybe I'm unable to use it. Forgive me, my child, I didn’t want to frighten you like that."

He paused and, seeing her desperate, he decided to try, even without the certainty that she would accept him: he gave her that cuddle that just before he had only simulated, brushing her temple.

He didn't know how, but she accepted it. She opened her eyelids swollen with tears and let herself be touched, as she had never done. Imperceptibly, she leaned towards him, tilting her head slightly.

"I understand that asking you to trust me is too much now" he proposed, from his heart, "but if not me, would you trust the Styx?"

Persephone was astonished this time: she spun around, the curls whipped the air. She looked at him in amazement.

Hades continued.

“I swear here and now, my Queen, on the merciless Styx, that I’ll never hurt you again. May it take away my kingdom if I’m lying. I’ll use the eternity to compensate you for the emotional pain I caused you by bringing you here, and the physical pain that I could cause you for our first night."

She was struck by those words and couldn’t hide it. She hadn’t expected an oath on the Styx, because no God had ever done it. Least of all by pledging an entire realm on an unlimited basis.

Hades dared further:

"I have now exposed myself, my Queen, much more than a wise man should" he snatched a smile, he was happy, "but for your part, tell me: is there any possibility that you’ll find again that feeling you had for me, even if I hadn't seen it?"

Persephone hesitated.

And then, slowly, solemnly, she nodded.

Hades felt his heart filled with joy and smiled in turn, serene, free.

"Can I come in to comfort you?"

She nodded again. And it was the sweetest consent of eternity, which he would never have hoped for that night.

When he entered the hot water, after taking off his tunic, he realized that Persephone didn’t dare to even glimpse a corner of his skin. He didn't mind: it was still early for that kind of confidence. After all, had she ever seen a man? Hades was honestly curious. Perhaps only Dionysus, who always ended up undressing at the Symposia after drinking too much. But on those occasions Demeter had always appeared to close her daughter's eyes and take her away, and in any case Persephone had never been adult enough to conceive of any underlying carnal meaning. Now, on the contrary, there was carnal meaning.

In order not to frighten her, he entered a few steps away, and didn’t force her to turn and look at him. He warned her when he was immersed up to the waist. Again, the water didn't hide much, but it had to be enough for her too, because she agreed to turn around.

Persephone didn’t allow her pupils to sink beyond the horizon, not even for a second. However, what she found had to surprise her, because she was now raising her eyebrows in a stricken expression. Reflexively, like an involuntary gesture, she put her hands on her own chest, between her breasts. She seemed to be hurt.

Hades sensed that she was looking at the scars.

It didn't bother him. She was curious, it was normal. Gods rarely experience pain, and when they do, it’s for very serious causes. Persephone certainly didn’t know it, without monthly cycle, untouched and without the experiences of the most ancient gods.

Hades had learned that establishing a connection with her immediately was fundamental, and therefore he didn’t repeat his previous mistakes and spoke first:

"Don’t fear. It happened a long time ago.”

"The war?" she asked weakly.

"My father." He wanted to specify it. The whole war on a God could also leave no marks, as it had been for Zeus and Poseidon. But a father's wounds hurt much deeper, and he was the only one to have received them.

The Goddess reached out a hand, or at least tried, holding it under water. It was clear that she wanted to approach and study him: it was her nature, her strong empathy, combined with curiosity. But she was afraid of doing it.

"You can come closer."

 _My body is yours, My Queen, as yours will be mine._ But he didn't say that. It would only frighten her again.

However, Persephone proved far more audacious than Hades thought, perhaps driven by her own empathy. In fact, she approached. Just a moment she hesitated before the last step, but then, intrepid, she filled the distance and their bodies touched.

She was torrid.

Even just brushing her skin was like walking whole days under the dry summer heat of the Peloponnesus, filled with rocks, cypresses and olive trees. It almost hurt him: he was too used to the chill of his kingdom by now. But it reminded him of home, childhood, the old days. Millennia before, when he too had been dark-skinned.

The young woman said nothing and, lightly, put her ear on his chest, in the middle of the sternum. With one finger, she began to trace the signs of Cronus' claw.

Hades was immobilized, fearing that his bride might run away if he did anything, like an animal that wasn’t yet domesticated. But he dared anyway: he put his arms around her shoulders, without pressing too hard, just to make her understand the gesture. A hug. In which she unexpectedly sighed and relaxed, leaning against him heavily.

Hades smiled. It felt _good._ He had said he wanted to comfort her, he certainly wouldn't have expected the opposite to happen.

But she was in love, she had confessed. She had been for a long time.

This had filled his heart with pleasure. He was aware that her feelings would redeem him.

"Did it hurt you much?" Persephone asked, full of pain in her tone of voice.

"It did, yes" he confessed, "but it was worth it, because my and my siblings’ pain put an end to the war, so you and the youngest never have to experience pain in your turn."

She hugged him more, Hades in return felt authorized to hold her better, in a real embrace. He felt her soft cheek pressing on his chest muscles and, again, it seemed the hotter thing in the universe, worse than in Hephaestus forge.

"So, you won’t..." she mumbled, indecisive, again trembling in her body, "I mean... you won’t make me feel the same pain?"

Now he was the one full of pain. He lowered himself a little, until he rested his chin on her hair, where he could finally smell the flowers living there. They were no longer black. Dark scarlet, rather.

"Lying with an husband isn’t like that, Persephone" he said, stopping the hand with which she still was studying the scars, "it has nothing to do with the pain born from violence. Believe me, I know."

"I'm afraid you don’t know much more than Zeus about women, my King."

That was a joke, she was chuckling shyly. Hades followed her, let her win.

“You’re right, my wise Queen. But I know there may be pleasure for the bride, too. Sometimes, more than for the groom. I’m sure your life teachers never told you about this little detail."

Persephone chuckled louder, admitting it: getting lectures on married life only by voted virgins, sapphic lovers or raped women, could in fact lead to a slightly biased propaganda. Aphrodite Urania, the most beautiful of them all, the only direct heir of their father's father, was actually the only one willing to admit that she had positive experiences with men; usually, however, she was promptly silenced in front of the younger girls and treated by the others as an adulterous and impure woman.

He let his hilarity go away and only then, cautious, he picked up where they left off, although with a completely different attitude. Holding her tight, he slipped a hand over her back, stroking the soft curve. Then he went up, over her shoulder, and reached her breasts. He barely touched her, even so causing her little tremors. He couldn’t say if she was trembling out of terror or maybe, at least a little, with a hint of arousal.

“Let me show you my love, my Queen. I promise you won't regret it."

She didn’t give him verbal consent, but neither did she stop him. Not even when, slowly, he plunged into the water with his hand, running through her full belly, slithering between her thighs.

Persephone jumped softly, as soon as he touched her. Perhaps now she could feel his incipient erection touching her body, because she seemed embarrassed, blushing both in her cheeks and flowers. But Hades held her in his embrace and calmed her, stroking her locks.

She did nothing and remained quiet. Hades, with all the devotion of a good husband, without any hurry started caressing her womanhood. He stayed outside of her, massaging her folds and her most sensitive spot, without ever attempting to approach the entrance. He certainly didn’t want to profane it with his fingers, nor did he want to frighten her.

He just wanted her to experience that pleasure she had perhaps never known, not even by herself.

Soon the Goddess’ breathing became restless. She seemed to become heavier, because she clung to his shoulder, as if she were afraid of sinking into Tartarus. When she started to squeal, Hades smiled: she was afraid to free her breath and be heard by someone. He found it cute.

"Let it go" he whispered, "there’s nothing wrong with a wife enjoying time with her husband."  
"No, I... they... hear me..."

The truth was that no one would hear her and, even if it had been, they had better get used to it, all of them: Hades had no intention of keep quiet, now that he had his bride. Not even one night, if only she had allowed it.

Persephone didn’t let it go, however, and Hades didn’t insist. She needed time for that too, but fortunately they both had plenty of it.

So, when she reached the climax, she did it by suffocating everything, pressing the face against Hades’ chest and trembling strongly. Finally, no more terror.

The God waited her to calm down, and in the meantime he held her tight, inebriating himself with her scent of spring, so strong as to almost make him pass out. He hugged her and sighed, feeling his own erection pressing on her belly, and she no longer tried to move away. He was very grateful for it.

"Is... is this it?" she asked, confused, exhausted, "Is this the pleasure you can have from me?"

He only told her that yes, it was that, but actually his pleasure really depended on who was his companion, it wasn’t just physical. He was so grateful to have the possibility to be with her, not just any woman. He had waited for her so long. Not only that handful of years since she was born: even from before. From the beginning of time.

Then Persephone gave her consent: she got up on her toes, tried to reach him. She gave him a kiss, warm yet chaste at the same time. Very different from the one she had been forced to just a few hours earlier during the wedding ceremony.

For the first time, Hades felt her _alive_.

Hades lifted her, for him she weighed nothing, and it was like carrying a load of feathers. He brought her closer to the edge of the pool, the smoothest spot, so that it wouldn't hurt. He placed her there, drops of water running down her body like tiny waterfalls. He placed himself between her thighs, kissing her more vigorously, finally feeling her _._

Only then Persephone, detaching herself from the kisses, dared to look down between them. Immediately, she went pale.

"I beg you, be gentle."

Hades’ first instinct was to scold her again because it wasn’t proper for her status to plead, but he refrained, so as not to cause more problems. Then he forced her to lift her chin, to distract her.

"Look at me, my wife" he said quietly, "relax and everything will be fine."

He stared into her eyes, using his power, but not as before. Certainty was a very ambiguous friend: yes, it could reassure, but only if he was the first to be calm. At that moment he was grateful that he was, unlike what had been in their room, and he was happy to be able to give her that little quietness she needed.

He felt her become softer, less rigid. She relaxed her muscles, slowed her breathing. And then he could start pushing.

Almost immediately, it was as if he was stabbing her with a weapon, because he felt Persephone stir, clinging to him with all her strength behind him. He found resistance, and then he had to sink more vigorously.

When he was beyond the barrier, the sudden cry that Persephone let out, hurt him too. It was evident she was in pain, trembling, tears starting to originate again in the corners of her green eyes. Hades was seriously sorry, as if they were doing it to him.

But he was grateful for that trust. Really, really grateful.

He remained motionless inside her, hugged her tightly.

"Hush, don't worry" he tried to console her, feeling her all rigid around him, "it's done, now it will be easier. Please, relax."

Persephone tried in every way to do it, Hades knew, even if it took her some time. Time in which he continued to hug her, without moving even by mistake. He wiped away her tears and apologized, too, although he didn't think he had to do it, because he hadn't designed the female body: all that cruel mechanism wasn’t his idea.

Only at the end, when she was quieter, he lowered a hand and touch her, still open to welcome him. He wet his fingers with her ichor and raised his hand between them, so that both could see it.

White as milk, streaked with gold like Olympus.

Hades smiled. He had never doubted it.

"Gold, my love" he explained, "like the ichor of our ancestor, Uranus. Only the major Gods still have this color today."

"The... the Olympians?" she asked, still in pain but also curious.

“No, not the Olympians. Only the royals: me, Poseidon, Zeus, Hera. And you."

That revelation had to upset her, because she immediately seemed to forget all her pain. Her eyes widened, she analyzed that ichor of hers, which she had never seen.

"But I... I'm just..."

“You are the Queen of the Underworld. You always have been. Do you believe me now?"

Now yes, she believed him, because she closed her eyelids and clung to reach him; he got another deep kiss, which tasted of life and flowers.

Hades put his hands on the rock, forgetting those few drops of very precious ichor. He squeezed her buttocks, let her slide closer, and then went back to pushing into her sheath. She was stiff only for the first few moments, then she wasn’t anymore.

For a long time Persephone accepted his thrusts, hot, daring. She was no longer afraid and took, even with longing, every kiss, every caress, every lunge, lacing her legs behind his back. She couldn’t let it go and scream, even though it was obvious she wanted to. But it was satisfying anyway, when Hades warned her that he was going to give her his seed and she said she wanted it, almost greedily in her tone. Hades felt like she too knew that it had always been hers, and that it would never belong to anyone else.

When he reached his climax inside her, he collpsed on her, panting, kissing her breasts. He felt her hands in his hair: she was stroking him. It seemed impossible.

Finally, the God slipped out, getting a last moan from her: it was like she didn’t like to feel disconnected anymore; she was aware that the unpleasant condition which she should learn to bear was in fact to be empty, and not to have him inside, as she had always thought. Hades knew it, because it was the same for him: in all eternity, the time he would spend outside of her, every single hour, would be painful.

Hades swallowed, caressed her. He touched her belly, pressed, as if to feel the inside. Only for a moment did he regret that even that womb could never have developed his seed. But it was a short thought: because Persephone looked up at his face, and he returned. She was even more beautiful after love, more mysterious: it seemed that suddenly she had learned of a truth that she wouldn’t reveal to anyone, not even to him.

Hades sighed, let himself be cuddled. He pressed his forehead to hers.

“Thank you, my Queen. The best wedding night a groom could wish for."

Persephone smiled, full and shy lips, pink and moist with love. Then she leaned over, pulled him behind the back of his neck and sheltered herself in the hollow of his shoulder.

" _The same goes for the bride_."

She said it so softly that Hades was never sure that he had really heard it, or only imagined it. It wasn't even a voice, it was just hot breath directed into his ear, which had taken the form of those words he wanted with all his heart. But he never asked her if he had understood correctly, not even in the future, after so many years together. He preferred to keep that doubt.

At least one, in an ocean of such certainty.

Now that they were against each other again, skin to skin, he sensed that she was getting cold, because he felt her tremble and her skin get rough on her shoulders.

"Cover yourself with my tunic" he said, relaxed, "let's go back to the palace, I'll show you your gynaeceum, so you can rest."

He was sure she needed space. Of course, it had been a beautiful night, much better than he even dared to hope. But they were still practically strangers, and he had the feeling that as soon as the audacity of love had waned, Persephone would need time on her own.

Instead, the Goddess found a way to amaze him for the umpteenth time.

"No, please. I'd like to stay here a little longer."

Again, Hades didn’t know if it was for a sprout of newfound affection for him, or for fear of being alone, or because she hated the palace so much that she preferred to stay out there with the man who had kidnapped her. And, as before, he didn’t ask, he just fulfilled her wishes, as he had sworn.

He picked her up and brought her back into the hot water. Immediately, she stopped shaking. Finally, when they sat down on the bottom, side by side, Persephone leaned against his chest with her temple.

She fell asleep right there, said nothing more. She slept for many hours and Hades didn’t dare move: he remained motionless, waiting for her rest, lost in his thoughts, not at all bored. Happy, rather. Just happy.

Because only now did he feel truly _free_ ; of every kind of responsibility felt until then: first that of having to find a partner, then that of waiting for the right companion to grow, then having to bring her down there, and finally that of having to consummate. The last one, above all, had remained on his shoulders like a gloomy vulture for days. But they were now husband and wife. It was official. Nobody could have divided them anymore, not even the Father of the Pantheon.

Indeed, _not even the Wheel_. Meticulous and inevitable spinner of destinies.

Because the black and white threads of the rulers of the Underworld were now intertwined, impossible to separate, so tight as to appear as a single median color. Little participants of a great universal weft, in which they would always have been accomplices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For now, this is really the end. Hope you liked it! It's possible that in the future I'll add some other appendices and short stories, and as I said I'll keep you updated for the published version, so always, always stay tuned! Oh, and as promised, there's Anubis spin-off! You can read the first chapter here on Ao3: [As the Moon and the Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24849484/chapters/60113446). Enjoy!


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